And it’s the way she says it that cracks my heart in two, as if no one’s ever believed in her before. But even I know that’s not true—her family believes in her. They’re giving her that cursed bookshop.
But maybe I’m the first man who’s ever shown her that she’s more than what she limits herself to.
Several long seconds pass before she swallows and a lumptrails down her throat. “Okay. I agree. You can help me. On one condition.”
“Name it.”
“No touching. You can’t touch me, and I can’t touch you. When we start…”
Her gaze drops, as does her voice, and I understand what she means. It’s not only that the desire can become overwhelming; it’s that she’s afraid of being hurt.
“No touching,” I agree. My mouth ticks up in a smile. “And here I thought I might have to beg.”
“That’s still not off the table.”
I bark a laugh, and her eyes shine with amusement. A hammer’s cracked the brick wall between us, and it shatters, crumbling to the ground.
When our laughter dies, she asks again, “How will you help me?”
A slow smile spreads across my face. “Starting tomorrow you’ll find out.”
26
“This is useless.” I heave in a breath and exhale hard. “I’ll never work magic. I don’t know why you’re trying.”
Feylin shoots me a scathing look. He’s standing with one hand under the opposite elbow and his chin resting on his fist. It’s a ridiculously sexy stance, even though I’m doing everything in my power to ignore the sex appeal that rolls off Feylin, King of the Fae.
He smirks. “With an attitude like that, you’re right. You’ll never be able to do it. Now, let’s try again.”
“What’s the point?”
“Because I like to torture you.”
I stick my tongue out and he smirks. “Be careful. I might find use for that tongue.”
The hungry look in his eyes makes my ears burn. Since I certainly don’t want to talk about anything ofthatnature, it’s probably best that we focus on the magic.
I thread my fingers and crack the knuckles. “Okay. So, the apple?”
“The apple,” he affirms.
The lush green grass of the back lawn unravels in front of me. Not far off sits an apple. I narrow my eyes, thinking this will help me focus.
“Your eyes aren’t going to move it,” he tells me.
“I’m focusing.”
“As I said,thinkabout lifting it. Not narrowing your eyes. Wrap your magic around the apple and raise it.”
All my concentration is pinned on that little sucker. I grit my teeth, thinking hard, but nothing happens.
I rub the back of my neck. “We’ve been doing this for an hour. It’s hopeless.”
“You need a break.”
“I definitely need a break.”
He crosses to a pitcher of lemonade sitting on a table and pours me a glass. When he hands it over, I make sure my fingers don’t brush his. So far he’s kept his word and hasn’t touched me. Even though that’s made it easier to work with him, his mere presence is still a distraction, because just sniffing his leathery scent makes my head spin, and when those sapphire eyes of his land on mine, the world gets sucked away.
