There was a protracted silence in the front garden. Finally, James gulped, “Uh, thank you. Like, a lot.”
“You’re welcome. Now, I really should get cleaned up. You should probably do the same, and maybe eat before you sleep.” I didn’t want to nag him, but he’d worried me last time when he’d almost keeled over. “May I kiss you goodnight? Or is that good day?” I got to my feet and took a step back to give him time to consider.
He took a few shallow breaths, then a deeper one, before he lifted his head to look me square in the eye.
“Maybe my cheek?” he whispered.Goddess, he’s fucking perfect.
I slipped one hand under his thick, messy fall of hair, which I now knew covered such a pretty secret. Allowing my thumb to wander, I caressed his ear lobe, then when he sighed against my palm, ran it lightly up to the pointed tip.
He shuddered and his back arched. “Oh God…”
“Nice?”
“Yeah. Very.”
“I’ll lick and nibble them one day, if you want me to.” Before he could answer with more than the shocked gasp that crossed his lips, I dropped a featherlight kiss on his cheek. “Sweet dreams, faerie princeling.”
I knew without looking back that he watched me until I disappeared around the corner and out of sight.
26
EDWIN
I waitedin the living room, desperate to clear the air between us. I hated snapping at James, but it seemed I’d done a lot of it lately. I heard him shoving his dirty clothes in the washing machine along with mine, then his soft footfalls as he headed along the corridor to the bathroom. The rhythmic pattering of the shower came soon after.
When he found me, he was barefoot and clad only in pyjama bottoms, rubbing at his hair with a towel.
“You didn’t used to leave the bathroom until you were dry and dressed,” I commented.
“I don’t have to hide my ears anymore.” He finished with the towel, then scowled. “Need my hairbrush.”
“D’you want my comb?”
“No, I’d probably break it.” He disappeared, then returned with the brush and curled up in the armchair. “Gah, this is a knotty mess. We’re out of conditioner.”
“Want me to do it?” I hovered unmoving until he gave me a terse nod. Then I slid my comb from its drawer and plucked the brush from his fingers. “Lean forwards.”
He was tense at first, but when he realised I wasn’t going to pull his hair by the roots and make him yelp, his shouldersrelaxed. The brush would barely go through an inch without snarling up, so I switched to the comb and started at the ends. I’d known his hair was thick — anyone with working eyes could tell you that — but I’d never been allowed to really touch it before now, and good lord, there was a lot of it. I teased it carefully, methodically, and before long he was breathing easily as I added in the brush.
“You’re very good at this,” he murmured.
“My mother had very long hair. After she washed it, we’d sit in front of the fire and I’d help her comb out the tangles.” My throat had a funny lump in it as I pictured Mum in her nightgown and housecoat, head bent much like James’ was now, trusting me to help her.
“That was nice of you. Sounds like you loved her a lot. You know, to take the time.”
The lump grew a bit. “She was all I had.” I picked up the brush once more to smooth down the next section of detangled strands. “I mean, I had my mates, but yeah, I did love her. She was a good mum. We were a team. Me and her against the world.”
“I miss my mum.” It was the barest whisper, one I’d almost certainly not have picked up without my supernatural hearing. I emptied my hands and came to kneel in front of James, taking a hold of his knees.
“Do you want to talk about her?”
His sigh was deep and ragged. “I dunno.” I waited, unspeaking, sensing there would be more. “Baxter found out where she’s living now. Same for my grandparents, but I don’t think I want to see them. Or not ’til I know more about them.”
“Do you want to see your mum?”
“Maybe.” He reached up to feel his hair. “I can finish this.”
“Don’t be daft, it won’t take a minute. Besides,” I resumed my place behind the chair, “if you hadn’t noticed, I like any excuse to touch you.”
