Page 53 of The Sky Pirate's Stowaway
I felt the first whisper of his mouth against mine—
“Reaper!” Ariella’s voice burst across the deck, accompanied by the pounding of multiple footsteps.
I jerked away from Kas so violently I nearly toppled backward, my prosthetic scraping against the wooden floor of the crow’s nest. Panic surged through me, clearing the fog of desire in an instant.
“Stay down,” I hissed, pushing Kas lower into the nest. “Don’t make a sound.”
He nodded, eyes wide with alarm, and pressed himself against the inner wall of the crow’s nest.
I leaned over the railing, heart still racing, and spotted Ariella reaching my cabin door, her fist pounding against the wood. Behind her, Hawk-Eyes and Willy staggered, clearly deep in their cups.
“Ariella,” I shouted down, grateful for the darkness that hid the flush I could feel burning across my face. “What is it?”
She spun around, blonde hair whipping in the night breeze as she looked up. Relief flooded her features when she spotted me.
“It’s Ghost!” she called, voice tight with distress. “He just disappeared! We can’t find him anywhere!”
From his position curled into a ball by my legs, Kas made a soft groan.
“I’m so sorry, Reaper!”
“For fuck’s sake, Ariella,” I called down, injecting just the right amount of exasperation into my voice. “Ghost staggered back onto the ship about thirty minutes ago. Drunk as a lord, throwing up over the side.”
“What?” Ariella’s voice pitched higher.
I leaned casually against the crow’s nest railing, feeling Kas’s warmth against my leg where he remained hidden. “Last I saw, he was heading below deck, mumbling something about needing the bathroom. Probably making a mess of it as we speak.”
Hawk-Eyes snorted, swaying slightly on her feet. “Lightweight.”
Willy giggled, clearly as intoxicated as Ghost was supposed to be.
Ariella crossed her arms, her expression shifting from concern to irritation. “Why didn’t he tell me he was leaving? I was worried sick!”
I raised an eyebrow. “Have you seen yourself when you’re worried? It’s terrifying.” I gestured vaguely toward the lower decks. “He could barely string two words together. Maybe next time you should cut him off before he starts singing ship shanties to the figurehead.”
Below me, Kas made a muffled sound that might have been suppressed laughter. I nudged him with my boot.
“Quite the serenade. The viper seemed unmoved.”
Hawk-Eyes laughed loudly, clapping Willy on the back. “Come on, let’s go find Ghost and make sure he’s not drowning in his own vomit.”
“Let the poor man suffer in peace,” I called down. “He’ll have enough to deal with without an audience to his shame.”
I watched as the three of them disappeared below deck, Ariella half-carrying Willy, who had become fascinated with her long hair, his clumsy fingers tangling in the golden strands.
“That was close,” I muttered, finally daring to look down at Kas, still crouched by my feet.
He unfolded himself slowly, rising to stand beside me. The air between us crackled with unresolved tension—the almost-kisshung there, a phantom pressure against my lips that hadn’t fully materialized.
I cleared my throat, unable to quite meet his eyes. “You better go make some retching noises in one of the bathrooms. Make it convincing. Ariella will still go looking for you.”
“Right,” Kas said, slightly hoarse. “Wouldn’t want to ruin your brilliant cover story.”
I risked a glance at him. The moonlight caught in his copper hair, turning it to liquid fire. My fingers ached to touch its softness again.
“Go on,” I said. “Before they come back looking.”
Before I say to hell with it all and drag you to my cabin.
