“Here, drink this,” Roark hands me the water. “We’re dragon shifters, and things can get warm.” His eyes flick between my legs.
“Oh . . .”
“It won’t hurt you,” Evander says, giving my cheek a quick kiss.
It’s like an odd erotic spa. The guys move around me, and when they’re done, my feet are up on a pillow. I have three drinks to choose from and a cheese tray. Roark’s curled into my side and Evander’s lounging on the other side of me. Kieren’s on the day bed, one of my art books on his lap. He glances up every few minutes, like he’s waiting for me to explode or maybe sigh. I’m not sure which it is.
“So if I get the lightning, I’ll pass out?” I ask the quiet room.
“Maybe,” Evander says.
“Does it hurt?”
“You’re not as tall as me, so you don’t have as far to fall.”
I laugh because I’ve never thought of myself as petite,but next to the three of them, I am. “And what type of marks do women get?”
“Females? It depends. My mother has a serpent tail around her ankle,” Kieren says.
“My mum has a wing down her left arm. She says she loves it, but I know it makes her sad.” Evander runs his fingertips down my arm.
“Sad?”
“Yes, because she can’t fly. Or rather, fly far.”
“Oh . . . that’s . . . I’m sorry.”
Kieren glares at Evander. Evander breaks first and looks away. He grabs my empty lemonade glass and hops off the bed. “I’ll get you some more.” He leaves the room.
I turn to Roark, who smiles and pats my hand before closing his eyes again.
But the rest of the day passes without me passing out or twitching.
I’m moving at warp speed. It’s too fast even for me. Me, who practically moved in with my boyfriend freshmen year after a week of dating. That went as well as Wren expected, and by Christmas, I was eating ice cream out of the carton while she listened to me moan. This is different. It feels really different. Then, I thought he was cute, and he found me pretty.
I didn’t have the lightning. It didn’t happen. Not instantly. Afterglow. I understand the concept a heck of a lot better now. So much better. Wanted. I might be— No, Iamdisappointed I didn’t have the lightning. But there’s a glow in Kieren’s eyes, and for the first time, I know it’s me that’sput it there. Not because I’m an artist, an art historian, or an accountant, just simply by existing. Existing is enough. That’s a feeling I’ve never had before. And for once, I’m able to almost completely silence the voice in me that says I have to try harder, be more, go to the collection, get things done. It’s freeing.
58
RAINE
Irun my fingers through my hair again. This time, the tension of the ponytail holder stops me. I’ve created a rat’s nest on top of my head—something my college roommate called my exam hair.
There’s a warm chuckle from next to my desk. I pull the tie out and glance up at Kieren, who’s scrunched up in an old chair he plopped down a few days ago. He’s been bringing his laptop in and quietly sitting with me while I work on the collection. When I need to move a large painting or open a crate, he bounds up and helps. I’m not sure if he doesn’t want any of the other staff around me or really enjoys being here.
“What?” I know exactly how I look. My roommate has posted enough pictures of me with my crazy hair that I don’t need a mirror. It takes a few good tugs to get my hair partially smooth. “It helps me think.”
“Pulling your hair helps you think? I’ll make sure to keep that secret from Roark.”
“Thank you.” A quick swirl and I have my hair back on the top of my head. “You’re sure you’re comfortable in that chair?”
“I’m always comfortable around you.” He winks.
If one of my old boyfriends had said that to me, I’d have wondered what he was looking for. But with Kieren, so far, he’s been direct.
“Okay, well, if you’re sure.”
Roark’s curled up against me. Turns out he’s the snuggliest of the snugglers.
