I grab one of the books Poppy picked out at the bookstore—something about dream interpretation, even though I’ve never had very vivid dreams—and force myself to read the same paragraph four times without absorbing a single word.
Think about something else. Anything else.
Alden’s offer pushes back into my mind, and I lean into it, grateful for something else to keep my mind busy while Poppy bathes.
An apprenticeship. A chance at a future doing work with my hands, using my magic and working with Alden to create things that would last, that people would treasure. It sounds amazing. But it would mean leaving. Moving to Faunwood after graduation while Poppy still has a year left at the academy.
A whole year apart.
Would she wait for me? Would we even survive the distance? We’re just figuring this out now—asking her to commit to a long-distance relationship when we haven’t even defined what we are yet seems like too much. Maybe I’m being selfish.
But the alternative is turning down what might be one of the best opportunities I’ve ever been offered. Staying in Wysteria without a plan, without direction, just... waitingfor something to happen in my life—I don’t like the thought of that either.
The washroom door opens, and Poppy emerges in a cloud of lavender-scented steam. Her hair is damp, hanging loose around her shoulders instead of pulled back in its usual braid. She’s wearing a simple cream-colored nightgown that falls to her ankles, hiding almost all of her skin, but the sight still makes my chest tight—and threatens to make my trousers tight too.
Fuck.
“All yours,” she says softly, not quite meeting my eyes.
I nod and stand, grabbing my own clean clothes from my travel bag. “Thanks.”
It’s a relief to step into the washroom and close the door, putting a bit of space between us.
The water is still warm when I sink into the tub, and I try not to think about the fact that Poppy was just here, in this same water, naked. I scrub quickly, trying to clear my head.
But my thoughts keep circling back to her. To the way she laughed at something Soleil said while they sat next to each other during dessert. To how she looked standing in the garden while Aurora showed her around, the afternoon sun making her hair shine. To how her hand felt in mine during the walk back.
I think of the craziness and warmth of Aurora’s family, the way the children ran around playing with the chickens, the easy affection between all of them. Even Faolan’s gruffness couldn’t hide the love in his eyes when he looked atAurora. It almost reminded me of my parents when I was young and Ma was still alive.
And for just a moment, watching Poppy help Aurora with the dishes after our meal, I let myself imagine—
No.I shut that thought down immediately, dunking my head under the water and exhaling a stream of bubbles.
Too fast. Way too fast. We’ve been whatever we are for barely any time at all, and I’m already picturing... what? A little cottage with her? Kids? A life like Aurora’s?
The thought should terrify me. And it does, a little. But it also feels strangely right in a way that makes my heart beat just a bit faster.
By the time I’ve dried off and dressed in clean sleeping clothes—loose pants and a soft tunic—the fire has warmed the room to a comfortable temperature. Poppy is already in bed when I step out of the washroom, the dream book propped open in her lap, her glasses reflecting the dancing firelight.
“There are extra blankets in the wardrobe,” she says quietly. “For the couch.”
“Thanks.” I grab two thick quilts and a pillow, then set about making the couch as comfortable as possible. Though large, it’s notquitelong enough for me, so I’m going to have to curl up a bit or let my feet hang off the end. But I’ve slept in way worse places.
“Aric?” Poppy’s voice is small in the darkening room, the sun having slipped beneath the horizon.
“Yeah?” I ask while fluffing one of the pillows, my gaze drifting to her.
“Thank you. For coming with me. I know it was kind of sudden, and you probably had other things you could’ve been doing this weekend, but...” She glances down and bites her lip.
I abandon my pillow fluffing and move closer to the bed, sitting on the edge of it, being careful to give Poppy plenty of space. She looks up at me, her lavender eyes soft and uncertain in the dim light.
“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” I say honestly. “I mean it.” I recall her falling asleep on my shoulder, the shopping we did in town, the way she held my hand after I was hit with all those memories in the apothecary. “This has been really great. I’m glad you invited me.”
A smile tugs at her lips. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I reach out slowly, and when she doesn’t pull away, I tuck a damp strand of hair behind her ear, my fingers lingering against her skin as pink rushes into her cheeks. “Get some sleep, Brains. We’ve got the ride back tomorrow.”
“Okay,” she whispers.
