I wink. “I’m joking. Off to bed.”
It’s only when I hear his door close that I follow his steps and stop at Addison’s room.
As soon as I knock, it flies open. Her hair’s down, and the ends curl just above her perfect breasts. She’s changed out of her gown and is dressed in loose pants and a cropped sweater. Her belly button peeks out above the pants, and seeing that slice of flesh makes my throat tighten.
She bites down on her lip, scraping her teeth over it. She’s nervous. Her eyes are panic-bright, confirming as much.
“Let’s walk,” I say.
“To where?”
“To wherever we go.”
Her eyes narrow for a beat, but then she nods. “Let me slip on my shoes.”
I step away from the door and wait, glancing down at my own clothes. I’m still in my suit pants and white shirt, but it’s no longer pressed smooth. Wrinkles crinkle every inch of the fabric.
Addison slips out the door and quietly shuts it behind her.
I lead us through the castle until we’re outside, heading down the hill toward town. “Why’re we going this way?”
I tip my head toward her. “Because it’s neutral ground. You’re not in the castle.”
“It’s not neutral for you. We’ll be in witch territory.”
“You’re right. How about we sit, then?”
“Where?”
My chest tightens and a blanket appears. “Here.”
She eyes me warily before sitting on the blanket andpulling her knees to her chin. I sit beside her, stretching my legs and crossing the ankles.
Blue witch lights from the village glow dimly, and people mill from store to store. A few cars fill the streets, the low hum of their engines joining the crickets’ songs.
She glances into the sky. “When I was a kid, I always wanted to see more stars, but the town lights made it impossible.”
Stars do constellate the sky. I can see millions, but she can’t. Fae have sharper senses than witches. But it doesn’t have to be that way. I wave my hand in front of her face. She jerks back, nervous because of my closeness, and blinks.
“Try to look now.”
Addison slowly peers into the sky. Her mouth falls and she gapes at me. “What did you do?”
“I let you see.”
“Wow. There are so many stars.”
With a satisfied—and dare I say carefree—sigh, she falls back onto the blanket and stares up. My gaze washes over her, drinking in the smile that tugs her lips, the joy on her face. My heart slams into my ribs.
Fake, I remind myself. It’s better for all of us if I remember that. Not looking at the curve of her hips and the slice of skin surrounding her belly button will help, so I rip my gaze away.
I lie down beside her, and her scent trickles over me. She smells like vanilla and lemons. It’s frustratingly intoxicating.
We’re silent for a moment before she says, “When were you going to tell me that you had a cousin?”
“So we’re starting there, are we?” I turn my head to her. “Well played.”
Heat warms her cheeks. “I do my best.”
