Aric’s easy smile turns a little sharp. “You surprise me, Poppy Waverly. I had no idea.”
I bite my lip, trying to keep from smiling too big. “I have hidden depths. I can be mysterious.”
“Mm.” Aric sits forward a bit, leaning his elbows on the picnic table, still wearing that sharp smile that reminds me of the roguish main character in the book I’m reading right now. “I like mysteries. Maybe I can solve yours.” He tips his head slightly, studying me like I’m a puzzle he’s determined to figure out. “What do you think—will you be an easy solve, or are you going to make me work for it?”
When my cheeks flame with heat, probably turning my face beet red, his grin turns triumphant. “That’s what I thought,” he says, his voice warm with amusement. He sits back and reaches for the blueberry-vanilla cookie bars, clearly enjoying how flustered he’s made me. “All right, Brains. You ready for this?”
I dab the cookie crumbs from my lips with a napkin from the tray, then nod. “I’m ready.”
We each take one of the cookie bars, and they’re still a bit warm, fresh out of the oven.
“Hopefully it won’t disappoint,” he says. “I know you’ve got some high expectations.”
With a playful eye roll, I sink my teeth into the cookie bar. And oh.Wow.
The blueberries are tart, not too sweet, and the inside of the cookie bar explodes with vanilla frosting and perfectly crunchy walnuts.
Aric seems to be having a similar experience, based on his closed eyes and lost-in-bliss expression. I giggle at him, and he peeks one eye open.
“These are . . .” He shakes his head.
“Lost for words?”
Aric just nods and takes another bite.
The cookie bar is so good that I finish it in just a few bites, then prop my elbows on the table with a contented sigh. Aric finishes his, then levels his eyes on me before his gaze slides down to my lips.
“You’ve got some blueberry on your lip,” he says, pointing.
Heat flushes through me, and I quickly lift a hand and try to scrub it off. “Gone?”
“Nope.” Aric leans forward slightly. “Here, let me.”
He reaches across the small table, and my breath catches as his hand finds the side of my face. His palm is warm against my cheek, and when his thumb brushes across my bottom lip, every thought in my head scatters like dandelion seeds in the wind.
“There,” he says quietly. “Got it.”
But he doesn’t pull away.
His hand stays cradled against my face, and he’s close enough now that I can see the dark lashes outlining his hazel eyes, can feel the heat he puts off as his body blocks me from the autumn breeze sweeping through the back seating area. My heart hammers so hard I’m certain he can hear it.
Orcs have great hearing, right?
Aric’s gaze drops to my lips, then flicks back up to meet my eyes. There’s a question there, unspoken but clear.
I don’t trust my voice, so I just... wait. Wait for him to lean in, to guide me.
That seems to be answer enough.
He leans in slowly—so slowly I have time to notice everything: the way his pupils dilate, the slight catch in his breathing, the warmth radiating from him as he closes the distance between us. My eyes flutter closed just before his lips brush against mine. Slowly, tentatively. But there’s no mistake: Aric Vandermere is kissing me.Me.
It’s nothing like the one kiss I had before—clumsy and rushed behind the café when I was fifteen. This is gentle. Questioning. Like he’s afraid I might pull away.
But I don’t want to pull away. I want to be brave, like Alina and Lyra.
So I press back against him, just a little, and hear the small sound he makes in response. His hand slides from my cheek to the back of my neck, fingers tangling in my loose hair, and the kiss deepens, though he’s careful with his tusks.
My hand finds his neck almost of its own accord, fingers trembling as they press against his hot skin. His pulse thrums beneath my fingertips—rapid and unsteady, just like mine.
