Page 46 of Partnering with the Artist

“I’m pretty sure it’s almost dinner time!” I blurt. “And I— I’m staying over tonight. If that’s okay.” I hope it’s okay. Morana has already gone home. I really probably should have checked that it was okay before she drove off. Now, if it isn’t okay, someone will have to take me home.SomeonebeingZakery, who I’m not sure I will survive being alone in a car with for ten minutes.

His sleepy gaze settles where our bodies meet. “Yeah. That’s fine.” Lifting his hand from my arm, he sets back the curtain of my hair and squints at the clock on his nightstand. Almost seven. “Gracious. How long was I asleep?”

“Three…or possibly four hours.”

He hums, and his fingers tickle my neck as they rest by my pulse. “Feels like I’ve been hit by a truck.”

Probably…because I fell on you.

I babble, “I’m sorry I’m in your room. The door was cracked, and I was putting away your tablet and jacket, and I was pretty sure it was almost time for dinner, and I didn’t want to eat alone with just your brothers, but I didn’t know how to wake y—”

His mouth.

It touches mine.

“Hush…” he mutters, sinking back down against his bed as his arms close around me, taking me down with him into an ocean of pine, cedar, a hint of citrus. “You’re welcome in my room anytime.” His fingers thread through my hair, nails grazing my back as he combs. “Also, I spoke out of turn. Don’t hush. Never hush.Ever.”

Did he just…kiss me?

It was a peck, to be certain, but it happened. His lips met mine, and now I am pinned to his body, feeling his breaths as they slow. This is…unprecedented.

“Talk to me,” he murmurs, right when I think he’s fallen back asleep. Under me.

Choking on my own air, I ground myself in the strokes of his fingers through my hair, against my back. His heat. The rise and fall ofhimagainst every inch ofme. “I…don’t know what to talk about.”

The softest edge of a smile curves his lips. “Just say words. Anything you’re thinking about.”

“Um. I’d…rather not.”

That answer does not seem to suit him.

Because the next thing I know…he has rolled me onto the bed beside him and caged me there. My heart leaps into the sky, into the galaxies spinning down his arms, painting them in more ink than skin.

Breath leaves his parted lips as he lifts one hand to his mouth. He kisses the knuckle, then grazes my lips with it. “Come on, princess. Bless me.”

It is very likely that Maelin has shut down. When my mouth opens, a sound certainly leaves, but it’s not exactly aword, now is it? No. No, it is not.

He glides his knuckle across my cheek, down my neck, then his face dips, and his lips connect with my throat.

Head tilting back, I grip the blankets on either side of my body in both hands.

“I…” he begins, voice rough, “…don’t understand myself. You are haunting my dreams, Maelin. Why have I mourned the waking world three times so I could return to moments like this with you?” His arms curl around me, and his weight presses as he traps me in his embrace. “I have never wanted anyone before. I have thought myself incapable of it. But…I want you.I. Want. You.” His muscles tense, and he comes aware, slowly, slowly—then all at once. He pulls himself away, catches my eyes, gets off me. Seated on the edge of the bed, he clamps a fist in the waves of his hair. “S-sorry. I was… I’m still waking up. Coming to my senses.” Firmly, he shakes his head, crumples, broad back caving.

My shaking fingers lift to my throat, and a buzz runs straight down into my stomach.

What…just happened?

What sorts of dreams was he having?

Before I can gather my thoughts well enough to say a single word, a knock sounds, and Zakery’s door opens wide to reveal Viktor’s imposing form swallowing the entirety of the doorway. “Time to eat, Za…”

Heat blares in every inch of me when Viktor’s eyes halt on mine.

I throw myself upright, kick my feet off the bed, and nearly die when I try to stand. If Zakery hadn’t caught the back of my dress and pulled me solidly back to safety, I am certain I would have smashed my skull on the tile.

Heartpounding, I take deep breaths and repeatsocks, tile, socks, tilein my head. The socks and the tile are why I’m in this mess.

I willneverwear socks again.Never.

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