His lips thinned. “Do you think I’d lie to you?”
I thought about it for a moment. The Kieran I’d known six years ago wouldn’t lie. Or I didn’t think he would. But I didn’t know this Kieran well. He wasmuch sterner, somber even. And he could be holding things back.
He brushed hair off my face, securing it behind my ear. “You haven’t changed.”
“I have.” My voice came out barely above a whisper. Pretty much a croak.
“Maybe a little.”
Quandary yowled, and we both turned.
The little menace had dived headfirst into a dense cluster of pillarbushes, all glossy leaves and thin, stubborn thorns. Only his hindquarters were visible, his tiny haunches and feathered tail twitching mid-air.
“Oh, for the love of magic,” I groaned, rising and marching toward him. “You have wings. Why not use them?”
He chirped a pitiful response, wriggling further in.
Kieran made a sound dangerously close to a laugh. “Is he stuck?”
“He’s trapped in a bush.” I tried not to laugh because my companion would be horribly offended if he thought I was doing something like that. “Apparently, glowing insects are irresistible.”
Kieran came over and crouched beside me. “Such a brave hunter.”
“The bravest,” I said solemnly, tugging at the branches to free my friend. “Defender of honor, conqueror of…shrubbery. If bravery means poor life choices, he’s a champion.”
“Careful.” Laughter hid in his tone. “He might challenge me for your affection.”
“He’d win. He bites less.”
“Touche.”
Quandary squeaked, his wings fluttering, but he made no headway in freeing himself from the trap he’d placed himself in.
Kieran chuckled. “You’re enjoying this.”
“I’m enduring this.”
He helped, his fingers gliding over mine as we freed the creature, the contact brief but electric. Quandary popped out in a flurry of leaves, indignant and puffed up like he was preparing for a duel. He strutted around, his wings flared, challenging every insect in the vicinity.
I couldn’t stop laughing. I laughed until I had to clutch my stomach. Until I toppled back onto the ground.
Kieran joined in, falling back with me. His canines glinted when the muted sunlight caught them, reminding me I lay beside a predator.
We remained on the grass, staring up at the vine mesh overhead.
“You’re going to scorch your face,” I said, waving to the bit of sunlight coasting across him.
“It’ll be worth it.”
Such simple words. They made my heart sing.
“You should do that more often,” I said, breathless for no reason.
“Get assaulted by sunlight?”
“Laugh.”
Rising onto his elbow, he looked down at me, quiet for a long moment. “You make it easy.” Taking my hand, he placed it against his chest.
