The Nolan does not leave the water, which is a stroke of luck indeed. It would be difficult to make her care for me with the Nolan breathing down my neck.
Nia kneels on the edge of her own blanket to withdraw a towel from her woven bag, draping the fabric over her shoulders. “I see you have some new admirers.”
The five females show off their flat-toothed smiles. When they catch me glancing their way, they wiggle their fingers in a strange wave of sorts. They are fair, but none hold my attention like the one reaching for the bottle still clasped in my hand.
Somehow, Nia manages to drink the wine without making a face. Setting the bottle aside once more, she cups the ends of her wet curls in her delicate hands and squeezes so they spring tighter. I bet her hair is very soft. She usually wears ribbons in her curls, but not this day.
“I’ve always wanted colorful hair,” she says with her nose scrunched.
I love her hair—love everything about her, really. There is not one thing I would change about Nia Quill besides her affection for the Nolan. “Your hair is perfect. Reminds me of Biscuits.”
Her brows lift over wide eyes the color of a bee’s honey. “Did you just compare me to your goat?”
She says this like it was not a compliment. “I believe you mean the finest goat in all the realm.”
“The ugliest, maybe.”
It is a good thing that my Biscuits is not around to hear such terrible words. Nia has only met my Biscuits once. He has not yet had a chance to impress her.
She stretches the towel over her blanket and then settles herself on top. I have never wished to be anything other than Unseelie, but on this day, I would not have minded being born a towel.
“Are you excited?” I ask, hoping her distraction will aid in my venture to win her heart.
The smooth expanse of her flat stomach stretches as she lays down on her back. “For what?”
“Your birthday.”
Lips I long to feel beneath my own turn down. “It’s not until the twenty-fourth.”
Ha! Victory at last.
Her eyes widen. “You cad!” She rips a handful of grass from the ground, throwing the blades at me. They flutter like flakes of green snow over my trousers. “That was sneaky.”
“I believe you mean clever.” There are only three weeks left until the anniversary of her birth. Three weeks to convince this perfect female that I would be a better mate than the Nolan. Difficult, but not impossible.
Her laughter is a wild, borderline feral sound, unrestrained and full of warmth. “You really don’t know how to take a hint, do you? I’m not interested in you, Maddox.”
Those words sting, but only a little. I am not a fool. I can see that she is enamored with the short Nolan. But affections fade. That is a lesson I know all too well.
She tips her chin toward the other Seelie females. “However, they seemveryintrigued.”
The Amber one wiggles her fingers once more, and the rest of her small friends are once again overcome with giggles.
“Why don’t you go sit with them?”
Because I cannot stare at Nia from all the way over there. Not that she wishes to be stared at by me.
Perhaps I should go sit with them. What is the harm in getting to know more Seelie fae? Nia is clearly not ready to let me into her heart.
Sighing, I roll to my feet and trudge over to the crowded blanket.
“Well, well. Maddox Finch. We’re so glad you came to see us. Who was that you were with?” the Amber one asks, glancing past me to where Nia does not even seem to realize I am gone.
“That is Nia Quill.”
“Are the two of you together?”
In my dreams only. “She is my friend’s cousin.”
