I found myself both relieved and frustrated by that development. I desperately needed the time to study. And yet, given everything that was going on, I certainly could have used a hug from a true friend.
“How long have Wilder and I been a couple?” I asked as I dipped my quill into an inkpot set into a divot at the corner of my workstation.
Desmond made a sound as if something had caught in his throat, and I looked up to find him staring at me from a table across the room, brows furrowed severely. “Pardon?”
I drew a tick mark beside the last task on my list, confirming that I’d performed the entire experiment and had recorded my findings. They were going faster now that I’d gained a modicum of experience, and my familiarity with both the laboratory and the equipment had developed very quickly. “I said, how long have—”
“I understood the question,” Desmond snapped. “What I do not understand is why you posed it.”
I tilted my head, displaying my confusion. “You said I could ask you about anything I don’t yet understand. In fact, you encouraged that very process.”
Desmond scowled at the journal open in front of him, where I knew there would be a meticulous record of his own accomplishments for the evening. “I meant that you could ask me aboutalchemy.”
“Well then, you should have been more specific. The reality is that you made an open-ended offer, and I am availing myself of it.”
He looked up again, and I could feel his gaze as I carried my equipment to the cleaning station. “Semantics,” he mumbled.
“Precision,”I corrected. “You’ve taught me that precise expression is crucial in alchemy, for accurate recordkeeping, and—”
“This is not alchemy. This is literally semantics.” His grip on his quill was tight enough to strain the very structure of the tool. “You’re asking about your private life, and—”
“Alchemyislife. You taught me that as well. And that, in aliteralif esoteric way, life is alchemy.”
He set his quill on the work surface and crossed his arms over the front of his laboratory apron. “Would you like it if I held you to the very letter of every word you said?”
“Yes.” I nodded. “I think I should quite enjoy that. Of course, I’m generally more specific in my word choice than you are, but even in cases where an excited utterance fails me, being held to my word would no doubt teach me to be more careful the next time.”
His dyspeptic gaze felt like glowing coals deposited directly into my bare hands. “I cannot tell whether or not you jest.”
The truth was that I couldn’t either. Needling him had become a rather amusing diversion from tidying up my workstations, independent of my original question.
“Why?” I struggled not to smile at his consternation. “Is that an activity we engaged in before? Did we jest with each other? Or was it terribly austere, all those hours alone together in your lab?”
Desmond turned away from me and began gathering his used supplies. “I do not care for this line of questioning.”
I laughed, and I could swear he flinched. Which only made me laugh harder.
“Then I shall have mercy on you,” I finally relented. “If you answer my original question. How long have Wilder and I been a couple?”
He sighed, copper-eyed focus burning into me. “Why do you ask?”
I had no interest in answering his question, but turnabout, evidently, was fair play. “Your brother and I have been embroiled in a lovers’ spat for the better part of a week.”
Desmond’s expression soured. “I sincerely doubt that, considering the two of you arenotlovers.”
Fire blazed behind my cheeks. The more confused I felt, the faster I talked. “First of all, ‘lovers’ spat’ is merely an artful turn of phrase, and thus exempt from the precise language stipulation. Second…it’s none of your business whether or not your brother and I are literally lovers. Though we are not, given that I cannot remember the onset or development of our affair, and that he would never pursue something I could not—”
“He most certainly would,” Desmond grumbled softly, and a private little shiver slithered up my spine.
“Just answer the question. How long have Wilder and I been a couple?”
Desmond turned to face me, and for a second, I worried for the beakers he held in each hand because of how fiercely he was gripping them. “It is my understanding that you and Wilder are not now, nor have you ever been, a couple. Defined as ‘in a committed—or at least acknowledged—amorous relationship.’ ”
“I—” I gave my head a little shake, as if that would jar loose the proper words. “But he said…”
Hadhe, though? Had Wilder actually said we were together? I’d certainly asked, but he was just as skilled at avoiding the question as his brother was.
“Why on earth would he have been in my bed if we are not a couple?” I demanded softly, unsure whether I was asking Desmond or myself.
