“He said, ‘I am…learning.’ But he promised to try very hard, and the dean could tell he had a good heart, so she gave him a chance. Probationary dragon.”
“Like me starting swim lessons,” he mumbled, his eyes drifting shut.
“Exactly like that,” I said, my voice softening. “And you’re going to be great at those too.”
He hummed, already half-gone. “Will you…come to my swim meet?”
I swallowed over the lump that suddenly formed. “Wouldn’t miss it.”
He nodded once, satisfied, and drifted into full snores. I sat there a second longer, watching his little chest rise and fall, the Avengers comforter bunched around his chin.
He trusted us. Both of us. In his world, Aunt Em and Uncle Noah were there. A team.
The weight of that pressed on my ribs. Whatever that kiss was—whatever this thing shifting between us was—didn’t only impact me. Or him. It touched this tiny human who’d already had his world blown apart.
I bent and kissed Miles’s forehead. “Good night, dragon rider,” I whispered.
Sassy, who’d flopped in the hallway, thumped her tail once as I slipped the door almost closed.
Then I turned and nearly crashed into Noah.
He was leaning against the opposite wall, arms folded over his chest again, ankles crossed. The hallway light caught on the stubble along his jaw. It looked darker than usual. Or maybe I was noticing…more.
“Sorry,” I said, heart jumping. “Didn’t see you there.”
“Didn’t mean to lurk,” he said quietly. “Just wanted to make sure he got back down okay.”
“He’s out,” I said. “Kevin the tree monster joined a dragon academy. It really took it out of him.”
The corner of his mouth lifted. “You’re really good with him.”
“Yeah, well. I’ve had practice entertaining overtired men.”
His eyes met mine. Something flickered there, hot and startled. The air between us felt heavy again.
“Em,” he said.
Just that. My name. It did unspeakable things to my insides.
“We should…probably talk,” I blurted. “About…that. About what happened in the kitchen.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, pushing off the wall. “We should.”
We stood there, five feet apart, neither of us moving.
“I’m sorry,” we said at the same time.
I winced. “You first.”
He shook his head. “No, you?—”
“God, this is already a nightmare,” I muttered, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Okay. I’ll go. I’m sorry I lied about the date. That was…immature and panicky and stupid. I shouldn’t have dragged some hypothetical software engineer into my mess because I was embarrassed.”
“You didn’t have a date?” he asked, brows pulling together. “You were embarrassed?”
Heat scorched my neck. “It doesn’t matter. I found a date and then hung out at a late-night coffee shop hiding in shame. Point is, I put us in a weird position. And then I jumped you like a deranged raccoon in a dumpster, which, again, not my best work.”
His mouth twitched. “You did not look like a raccoon.”
