Page 104 of Reckless
I can feel his eyes on me. “And what is it that souls celebrate?”
I shrug a shoulder, still not meeting his searing stare. “That someone cared enough to bury them.”
My words hang in the air between us. My mind wanders to the Whispers where Kai buried Sadie during the first Trial. Not because he wanted to, but because he knew that I did.
His hand brushes mine.
He’s placed his palm on the grass beside mine. I feel his fingers inching closer before they graze the tips of mine.
I don’t dare look in his direction. My gaze is fixed on the glittering water as I occupy myself by counting each ripple.
On ripple three, he slides his pinkie beneath mine.
By seven, most of our fingers are woven together, tangled in the lush grass.
It’s silly, really.
No, actually, it’s bullshit.
It’s complete and utter bullshit that he’s able to make me melt with nothing more than a mere touch.
His hand should not have so much control over me. Tracing fingers should not be tugging on my heartstrings. But gentleness will be my undoing. There is an intimacy in being reached for.
His thumb strokes mine.
The feeling is comfort incarnate, tangible tranquility.
And that’s why I pull away before I can change my mind.
“I’m getting in,” I say, standing abruptly while rambling thoroughly. “Which means you also have to get in. Because you’ve made sure I can’t do anything without you. So,weare getting in.”
I pull the bow from my shoulders and toss it onto the ground. He’s staring up at me, still not bothering to stand to his feet. “Is this all a plot to try to drown me?”
I look down with a smile, my vest already off one shoulder. “Now there’s an idea.”
He chuckles, head shaking as he slowly stands to his feet. When the pack is off his shoulders, he stares at me expectantly. “What?” I ask, unsure why I sound so defensive.
He gives me a lazy shrug. “I’m just waiting for you to tell me to turn around.”
I blink at him. Then at the hem of my shirt still clutched in my hands.
I straighten slightly, staring him down. I’m not sure why I say it. Why I feel the need to prove something to him. But when I open my mouth, the words fall out. “What makes you think I was going to have you turn around?”
He crosses his arms over his chest. “Probably every moment we’ve spent together prior to this one.”
Lifting my giant shirt up, I keep my eyes on his. “I’m full of surprises, Prince.”
I pull the loose fabric over my head, leaving me standing there in a plunging, cut tank that cinches just below my breasts. It’s the type of breathable bra I would wear while training, and the easiest to find and steal on Loot. I glance down quickly, making sure my brand isn’t visible. It’s bad enough that the scar trailing down my neck is always available for wandering eyes.
Pants hang low on my hips, exposing every inch of abdomen to him. When his eyes skim over me, I shiver despite the setting sun streaming through the trees. There’s something about the way he’s looking at me that makes it difficult to not want him to. His gaze is reverent, slow like an earnest prayer.
I swallow when his eyes find mine again. Take a breath when he swiftly pulls his shirt over his head. The cloth I wrapped around his stomach is splotched with blood, and he doesn’t bother looking down as he begins unraveling it.
“Good to wash it out,” I breathe, because I can’t think of a single thing to say.
He nods, tossing the fabric to the ground. I hope he didn’t hear me swallow at the sight of his body. I’ve seen him countless times without a shirt, and yet, I’m still struggling not to stare. His skin is tanned, every muscle defined. My eyes trace the crest of Ilya tattooed on his chest, the dark lines tangling atop his skin.
Plagues, I need to cool off.
