Page 96 of The Heir's Bargain

That's all it was. I was human, and I had needs that needed to be fulfilled. And Fynn? Well, he had fulfilled them thoroughly.

What was done was done.

The next time we saw each other, nothing would be different. We had promised that and made it a rule.

I groaned, leaning back, my weight sinking into the stiff cushion. Even I no longer believed in the rules, though.

I couldn't help but wish that last night hadn't happened on the shortest night of the year, that it hadn't passed by so quickly.

My fingers tapped across my bouncing knee. We should have been on the way by now, yet we were still sitting in front of the manor. I leaned closer to the door. Shuffling sounded from outside, a murmuring of voices that I couldn't quite parse.

With a sigh, I pushed the door open. "Was there something I"—I swallowed, my lungs dropping—"forgot?"

"Yes, there was."

I quirked a brow, unable to say or do anything more as Fynn took another step closer to the carriage.

"Me," Fynn said. His fingers curled around the frame of the carriage. His hair was messier than usual, as if he hadn't bothered to brush it before he dressed and ran down the stairs. Dark brown strands fell in front of his face, masking it in shadows. The top button of his cotton shirt was undone and untucked. His sleeves were rolled up at different lengths as if he had pushed them up hastily.

Through the space between his arm and his head, I saw Jorian and Lance walking with Fynn's bags.

"Move over," Fynn said.

I didn't move. "Wh-what? Why?"

"I would like to sit."

My heart pounded against my ribcage. "In here?"

Fynn nodded.

I looked behind him. The sky was still a vibrant pink. "But it's early, you don't need to?—"

"If you're leaving now, I'm leaving," he said, interrupting.

"But—"

Fynn shook his head and placed a hand atop the carriage to lean closer. "If you won't move, I don't have a problem moving you myself, Ferrios."

An image of Fynn flipping me onto my back surfaced.

I quickly dismissed the thought. With a groan, I moved back, if only to hide the unwelcome blush rising to my cheeks.

Once Fynn was inside and settled across from me, Lance shut the door, grinning at me.

Silence and heat filled the small carriage. Fynn’s fingers tapped along the wooden arm of the bench. Then, the carriage shook, jostling us as it took off.

I forced my gaze away and peeled back the thin curtain. We would be home in a few hours. A few hours were nothing. I could?—

"I woke up, and you were gone," he said, interrupting my thoughts. "Care to explain?"

"Training," I mumbled.

Fynn quirked a brow. When he realized I wasn't planning on elaborating, he added, "So Terin said."

The carriage jerked forward as the horses descended the hill toward the main road. The alder trees whizzed by the window, the manor growing smaller and smaller as we pulled away.

"He said you practically ran away from him."

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