Page 6 of How To Please A Princely Fae

I know if I look, the deep crimson of the petals will have turned a lighter shade of pink, the way they always do in the morning. The green glow of the leaves and stem will be reflected all over my pale cream-colored bedding.

It's a welcome splash of my favorite colors.

And yet.

I don't want to get up.

I don't want to open my swollen, sore eyes.

And I don't want to accept any of the things that have happened over the past few weeks are real.

My hands fist in the bedsheets and I point my feet, unable to stop my teensy morning stretch.

I only want to live my little life in quiet and in peace the way I have for as long as I can remember.

I wish to remain untroubled and unbothered by a certain lavender-skinned fae prince who has occupied too much of my mind, too much of my heart, and too much of my attention.

I roll to the side, knowing I’m putting off the inevitable, and then stop.

My bed is warmer than it should be.

Why is my bed… hot?

I finally force my eyes open when I hear my owl familiar hoot gently from his perch on the inside of the door.

Sure enough, Chirp’s great brown eyes are fixed squarely on my face, and he hoots again, a soft sound. A soft sound that, though I might be used to it, I am extremely alarmed by because Chirp knows better than to make any sound at all when I'm still in bed.

The reason for the warmth and the hoots suddenly becomes absurdly and overwhelmingly obvious.

I suck in a shocked breath, my heart hammering in my chest.

A certain lavender-skinned fae lies next to me.

Kieran is in my bed. The tinted light from the window makes him look even more ethereal, even more handsome than even I could have thought possible. It caresses the delicious slope of his cheekbones, greens and pinks playing across his angular jaw and soaking into his silvery hair.

What a way to wake up.

I can’t seem to stop staring at him. What am I supposed to do now?

The sheet slips down his shoulder, exposing the lean muscle of his biceps. They are much larger than I would've imagined under his clothes… and I have imagined them quite often.

Wait.Wait. My eyes, even in their swollen state, somehow to manage to widen even more.

Where… where is his shirt?

Why is Kieran in my bed?

Why is Kierannakedin my bed?

What is happening?!

Still as a statue, I replay last night's events in my head, confused and at a complete loss.

There are a few facts to consider here.

One, Kieran has made it immensely clear that he dislikes me intensely. He hardly responds to anything I say. All of my attempts at idle chitchat and overtures of friendship have been completely rebuffed.

Two, that behavior is the complete opposite of how we spent our first few days together. My throat tightens at the painful juxtaposition.

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