“It’s a good thing you’re smaller than me,” I said.
Laughing, he said, “Tal, this is ridiculous.”
“It is a bit, but you seem to be enjoying yourself.”
The hand on my shoulder made its way to the back of my neck. “Seems to happen a lot when I’m with you.”
I pushed thoughts of last night’s conversation aside. If I only got one dance, that would have to be enough. I was used to everything only lasting short term, so it shouldn’t hurt when the song ended.
I began to shuffle us in slow circles around the dance floor. The movement forced him to hold on more tightly, but with his feet on mine, he didn’t have to put much strain on his hips or wrist.
It also brought us close together. I could smell the spicy fragrance he wore on his neck. This was the closest we’d been physically since we’d been trapped in the shed with the wraith—and though that wasn’t too long ago, so much had happened in the intervening time, it felt like an age.
“You know, I used to really hate the athletes in high school, ’cause they were more often than not the ones who’d bully me. Turned me off the big, strong jock types.”
“I’m not a jock.”
“You clearly work out, or are you just so genetically gifted that picking me up and running for both our lives was only a warmup for you?”
“My arms are still sore. There’s just not a lot to do when you live alone. Lunaris made me a home gym. I became a little obsessed with seeing how many push-ups I could do.”
I shivered as Kessian ran a hand down my arm, squeezing my bicep. “Well, I have a new appreciation for big, sturdy blokes now that one of them saved my life.”
“How’s your hip?” I asked, brushing my thumb where the wraith had raked its claws.
“It was busted before the wraith got to it, so no worse for wear.” He swallowed. “Thank you. For not leaving me behind.”
“I’d never do that.”
Very quietly, he said, “I think I know that now.”
My chest ached, something larger than his words wrapped up in them, heavy with meaning and making my heart leaden with it. He stared at a spot just over my shoulder, so I could look at him without reservation. The soft fall of his hair in his face, the glint of his freckles, the way his eyes caught the light like sun catchers, the pink mark left by my lips on his neck just visible above his shirt collar. So gorgeous that the ache in my chest worsened for looking at him too long.
While I floundered, Kessian said something so low and under his breath that I couldn’t hear over the music. I had to ask him to repeat it.
“I said, if you keep looking at me like that, it’s going to go straight to my head.”
“Sorry.” I looked over his shoulder instead.
A finger touched my jaw and directed me to turn back to him. “I didn’t ask you to stop.”
“You sort of did. Last night.”
“Right.”
“The song’s stopped.”
Kessian looked around to confirm it. A note of tremulous fear edged his voice. “I need to say something. I need to get this out.”
I handed him his cane then led him off the dance floor, away from the people watching.
He still didn’t have his shoes on as he walked us through the grass, his cane leaving deep imprints in the soft soil as we left the light of the tent behind. He positioned us behind an oak tree, out of sight of the wedding guests.
He turned to face me, feverish and nervous. Were his insides crackling and snapping like microwaved popcorn the way mine were?
“Last night … Last night I told you I needed a sure thing, right?”
“Right …” I said.
