Page 189 of Forcing Fate

Rafe snarled at the woman, and she recoiled. Patting her chest, she eyed us both before offering a quick farewell and disappearing down the hall.

I took a deep breath and opened the door, revealing a tiny space. It was a smidgen larger than my storage room at the barracks. It had a cot, a table, and a potbelly stove in the corner with a small stack of wood. Rafe crowded in behind me and suddenly the room felt far smaller than my storage closet ever did.

I turned to object as Rafe shut the door and tore his cloak off, tossing it on the bed.

“I’m sorry. I forgot to ask for two rooms. I’ll just—I’ll be right back.” I tried to get around him, but the cramped space allowed no way around him without pressing against him.

“Leave it, Vy.”

“No. I—really. It will only take a moment–”

“Stop. Last room, remember?”

I looked up at him—shaken. I didn’t know what I was doing. This was all wrong. Why hadn’t I let him take the lead? Why did I have to do things by myself and mess them up?

He grunted and eased down to sit on the cot. He gave a small bounce before scooting up against the wall and resting his feet along the length. “Sit,” he ordered.

I promptly obeyed. He shifted, giving me more room, and I just stared at him.

“This is worse,” I muttered, feeling dazed.

“Hmm?”

“This is so much worse. What will my mother do when she comes to find I’ve a man in my room?” I whispered, horrified.

He shrugged. “Well, let’s not be caught doing anything suspicious.”

I slapped at his leg, and he chuckled, knitting his fingers behind his head and leaning back. His muscles bulged with his movements, rippling under his tunic.

“Keep looking at me like that, and we’ll end up doing something suspicious.”

I flushed and stood, taking off my cloak and laying it on the cot as well. I set Thunderbolt’s saddlebag on the table and pulled Rafe’s winter vest out. He watched me with keen interest as I grabbed my small sewing pouch and sat back down.

I crossed my legs and scooted back to get comfortable, pressing against his ankles. He lifted his right leg and placed it in front of me, positioning me to sit between his legs.

I glared at him from the corner of my eye.

“Think of my mother,” I hissed.

He chuckled, but didn’t move. Instead, he settled to watch whatever I was about to do. I flattened his vest on my lap and studied the five wooden buttons down it. They were well-worn and loved, but someone else could make use of them.

I reached into my shirt, glancing at Rafe, who watched with careful eyes. Pulling my push dagger out and tugging it from the sheath, I set to work. I pried the button away from the vest and started cutting at the threads.

“Vy—I trust you.”

I glanced up to see a small smile on his face. “I’m glad you trust me with your garment. I’ve had lots of experience, you know.”

“I was just helping. You seemed like a girl that needed to practice your mending.”

“I hardly think you were helping. Do you remember that one vest I did?” I chuckled as I placed the buttons in my sewing bag and retrieved my needle and thread.

“I still have it. Hoping one day I’ll fit it.”

“I hope you don’t,” I said, glancing back with a smile.

“Like me fat?” he jested, reaching down to pat his abs.

“You’re perfect just the way you are.” I assured in a tone I would use on a child.

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