I turn at the sound of bare feet on the stairs. Maeve skips down the last few, Isis curled around her neck, then sidles up beside me. When she sees her brother, her lips pull down into a frown.
“What are you doing here?”
Aric’s smile falters. “Damn, sis. Don’t act too excited to see me.”
Maeve rolls her eyes and goes to lounge on the couch. I think that means she wants to invite him in, so I pull the door open wider and gesture for Aric to come inside. When he passes by me, I get a whiff of woodsmoke and cedar, like he’s been in a woodshop all day.
“Shoes. Off.” Maeve shoots Aric a stern look, and he quickly complies, pulling his boots off and setting them next to mine as I close the door. They’re so big, I could probably fit two of mine into one of his.
“Um, do you want something to drink or eat?” I ask, voice still quiet. “We have cupcakes—”
“He’s not staying,” Maevesays quickly.
But Aric drops down onto the free couch and gives me another one of those easy smiles. “Were you about to say cupcakes? If so, I’m in.”
Maeve’s stormy gaze slides toward me, and I quickly busy myself with plating two cupcakes, doing my best to disappear into the background.
“So, what is it? You lose your room key again or something?”
“What? No. Nothing like that. And that wasonce.”
“It was twice,” Lyra calls from the loft. “Hi, Aric.”
Lyra’s energy is different this year. But in a good way. Now that she and Cairn are officially together, she’s been able to cultivate a new peace in her life, and she hasn’t even set anything on fire yet. Sure, it’s still early in the semester, but I’m proud of her.
“Okay, then what?” Maeve sounds equal parts bored and annoyed. Maybe she’s trying to decide whether to conjure a raincloud over Aric’s head right now. I hope she doesn’t. That’s always a mess to mop up.
As I step back into the sitting room, cupcake plate in hand, Aric slouches on the couch and drags a hand down his face. His long hair is braided back and shaved above his ears, allowing the golden sunlight to reflect off the hoops adorning his earlobes.
“I need your help,” he says, voice taking on a pleading tone. “If I don’t pass these classes, Coach said I’m off the team. And if it gets really bad, I might have to repeat a year.” Aric looks up at me as I step toward the couch and offer him the plate. His eyes shine, but his smile doesn’t quite reach them. “Thanks.”
“Mm-hmm.” I step quickly away, moving toward the side table where my romance book and lavender tea are waiting for me. This is obviously a conversation to be had between Maeve and her brother.
“No. I’ve already tried to help you. You don’t take it seriously enough.”
Maeve has her stern voice on, and it makes me want to quickly get out of here.
“I’ll take it more seriously. I promise.”
“No, Aric. If you need help, you should find a real tutor. Maybe you’ll listen to them, because you certainly never listen to me.”
I grab my book and my teacup, ready to escape. My stockinged feet whisper on the cool floor as I head toward the stairs, intending to go sit with Lyra and Alina until Aric leaves.
But his voice stops me in my tracks.
“Hey, Poppy.”
My shoulders tense up at the sound of my name. I turn slowly to look back at him.
Aric pushes to his feet—he looks so huge in our small space—and tips his head at me. “You’re brilliant. Would you...” He flexes his fingers around the cupcake plate still held in his hands. “Would you be willing to tutor me?”
“Uh-uh. Poppy is way too busy,” Maeve says. “Professor Silvermoon roped her into planning an academy ball this year.”
“A ball?” Aric blinks and looks at Maeve, then back at me. “Well, I can help with that. Planning it, I mean.”
“You’ve . . . planned a ball before?” I ask.
Aric reaches up to scratch the back of his head. “Well, no, but—”
