Page 94 of A Winding Wave of Magic
“You do your prowling mostly at night?”
“You could say I’m something of a night owl.”
He nudged one shoulder into mine, and a shock of boyish glee skittered through me, causing me to lurch forward a few steps. I turned to catch him back with a shock of my own, but Jonathan simply dodged out of reach, laughing as he darted further up the path.
How different he was from the person who had left me in Oregon. The somber, cagey sorcerer had been replaced by a young man as mischievous as a kitten. I snatched at the edge ofhis jacket and yanked, causing him to fall back, pulling me with him.
He caught me neatly by the elbows, and another flutter of joy—the kind that only happens with true flirtation—coursed through my arms. I grinned despite my confusion. Honestly, I couldn’t seem to stop grinning. And I wasn’t sure why.
Hadn’t he wanted to stay away? His terror when I’d kissed him floated into my memory. I stood upright, brushing pretend creases from my polka-dotted skirt.
“All right?” Jonathan’s cheeks were ruddy with a slight sheen of perspiration, and his hat was knocked farther askew from the chase. The imperfections only added to his appeal, though.
I turned toward a flock of geese on the reservoir.
“Something the matter?”
“Why are you here?” I wondered, once again preoccupied with the state of my skirt. “Three months ago you couldn’t wait to be rid of me.”
Jonathan frowned. “I wouldn’t say that’s true.”
I rolled my eyes. “I kissed you, and you jumped like I was a leper. Now we’re playing cat and mouse like teenagers. What’s going on?”
“I can’t be happy for you?”
I sighed. “Don’t play games, Jonathan.”
Now he was the one to roll his eyes. The arrogant sorcerer wasn’t completely gone. “Maybe I’m just happy to see you. Idolike you, Cass. Unless you forgot that, too.”
I blushed, cursing my fair skin. Not that it mattered. One look with his sorcerer’s Sight and Jonathan could undoubtedly See exactly how much faster my heart beat when he appeared. I hated that it was true. I hated that several of my dreams had featured him inexactlythe way he had explicitly avoided three months ago.
A fire.
A smile.
A kiss.
There was something about it I still couldn’t shake. And it was incredibly…annoying.
I sank onto a bench facing the water, quiet while we were passed by a group of runners. Suddenly I had the urge to jump in myself. Not because I was overwhelmed with visions. Honestly, things were oddly calm at the moment. No, it was mostly because I knew the green-eyed man next to me wouldn’t follow. He’d tell me whatever news he had come to give. We could leave the flirtation for another time.
Jonathan came to sit next to me on the bench, laying his jacket over his knees and tipping his hat up so he could survey over the edge and rest his forearms on the rail.
“Would you prefer if I admitted I missed you?” he asked quietly, keeping his gaze on a pair of geese bobbing lazily a few yards away.
I pressed my lips together. “Only if it’s the truth.”
His fingers brushed my arm. Well, it certainly wasn’t a lie.
“I haven’t many friends, and I thought, perhaps somewhere along the line, you became one.”
My breath caught at the emotions slipping through his fingertips. Grief, still. Same as I felt whenever I remembered Gran’s face. Anger at the shadow, Jonathan’s father, the man who killed her. But friendship, yes. And something else?—
He withdrew his hand, thoughts silent once more. I took a deep breath, focusing on the faint scent of waterweeds instead of the instinct to kiss him that just wouldn’t fade.
“All right, you missed me,” I said so softly that my words were nearly lost in the breeze fluttering through my skirts and hair. “Well, I missed you too. Friend.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
