“Maybe we should train them,” James suggests. “They have so much energy.”
Yes. A distraction. For them and for me. “Hide-and-seek?”
Another dimpled smile greets me. “Hide-and-seek.”
It started as a game and has ended up our best defensive strategy to safeguard the hatchlings. I yip and point to the back of the cave and the dragons bound toward the small tunnels there. The three burrow in the nooks and crannies of the cavern and conceal themselves.
James and I then stalk the back wall. They are meant to stay hidden until we whistle. One sharp signal and they pop out for us to try to grab them, and they are supposed to evade us. Three whistles and the game ends. James whistles once and three heads emerge. I sprint to snatch Electrum and he shuffles backward into the darkness with a chortle.
A few minutes later Oria peeks out and I chide her appearing before the whistle. She scurries away with a mischievous little shuffle. They’re still learning, testing us like toddlers.
On the next signal I go right, and James goes left. We bump into each other hard, and of course I’m the one thrown sideways. James hooks an arm around my shoulders so I don’t fall. In one easy motion he rights me, and just like that the contact is over. “Sorry,” he says as he lunges for the hatchlings and all three scuttle away.
“No problem,” I whisper. But of course, I’m having problems. I roll my shoulders like that can get rid of the heat of him being so near, or the memory of the firm grip of his hands.
We play for more than an hour. Nity watches on baffled, but she doesn’tinterfere. When we’re both practically panting, we relent and James whistles three times. The babies emerge and run to munch on gold. I collapse on the cavern floor heaving. I’m surprised and all too aware when James joins me, also winded.
“They are getting good,” I note.
“Too good,” James concedes. “These games might be the most exhausting workout I’ve ever had. And yet, I think I’ve lost my abs.” He rests a hand on his stomach.
I swear if he takes off his shirt, I’m going to lose it. “How disappointing for your fans.”
“What fans?”
“You know you have fans.”
“And they only care about my abs?” His question feels loaded with something other than banter.
“Fickle fans.” I clear my throat and turn to the stalactites above when I realize our eyes have locked for a little too long. “I’m sure your abs are intact. Though, this can’t be harder than your riding training.”
He blows out a breath and laughs. “It’s not, but parenting dragons is rough. Right, Nity?”
Nity snorts in agreement and James laughs even harder.
I bend toward him like a sunflower seeking light. “You laugh so much nowadays.”
Unfortunately, my statement sobers the sound. He seems embarrassed and I hate that I even brought it up and made his smile disappear. “Well, I like it here.” He glances at me. “Is that okay?”
“Of course it’s okay. I’m glad…” He’s with me, he’s happy, he’s by my side. “… you interned here this summer,” I finish.
“Really?” He fully turns to me. It’s like I’m basking in sunshine. “I’d like that in writing.”
“Fine, but it’s not getting notarized or anything, so it’s still deniable.”
He chuckles. “Sometimes you are so odd, Walsh.”
My insides churn. I don’t want to be odd. I want… I want to be anythingbutodd. “Bad odd?”
He sits up. “No, not bad odd. Good odd.”
“Good odd? There is such a thing?”
A quizzical expression crosses his face. “Yes, of course. Farren, you…” James opens his mouth to say more, but no words come. He looks away as if embarrassed and catches something over my shoulder. “Hort!” he yells.
I jolt, thinking the worst—an injury, an accident, one of the hatchlings hurt. Over by the babies, Hort is—I peer closer—eating gold. James whistles a signal that means “come,” but Hort keeps munching.
“Hort,” I reprimand. Nity raises her head to inspect why we are making such a fuss and I go cold. If Nity were to get mad, were to lash out at Hort, I’m not sure he, or any Sprinter, could survive it.
