Page 66 of Tangwystle
He whispered into Gretel’s ear again, both laughing. Most likely at what I’d just said.
And then Baz left.
The Manor, as much as I loved it, seemed unbearably large with his absence.
Gretel remained in the corner, eyes cast down. I don’t think she was truly sad for herself but rather worried about Baz. Either about his personal safety at the Clinemell Manor (though I doubted Rufus would dare lay hands on him, at least not with a crowd) or about what he would find out about the place. All of us knew Gretel’s entanglement, and we never blamed her for the choices she made. But I’d never seen such a serious, sad side to Gretel before.
With her hands clasped in front of her, she said, “Baz told me I could order you to do whatever I wanted.”
I lifted my brows, but I wasn’t shocked. Baz and I had discussed this earlier. About keeping Gretel’s mind off things.
“And what is it that you want me to do to you?” I asked.
I’ll admit I expected a cheeky grin.
Instead, almost shyly, Gretel said, “If it’s not too much trouble, really I just want to be held.”
I could’ve turned into a puddle of tears right then and there.
“Let’s go to the library,” Gretel suggested, pulling herself up the stairs.
“Hold on,” I told her. We stood in the grand foyer, and it’d be easy enough to get to the library. “Are you sure you don’t want anything else?”
She shook her head.
“I made you some sticky buns.” Drug-free this time.
Gretel smiled at that, but it still wasn’t the ear-splitting grin I’d come to love. “You’d really let me have sugar this late at night?”
An aggrieved sigh escaped me.
“You do care about me,” she said and escaped down the servants’ stairs to the kitchen.
My mouth opened and closed as I followed her. “I. . .”
She turned back, listening.
“I-I really do care about you,” I told her. My entire chest vibrated as I tried to steady my breath.
Gretel stayed still for a moment. Her face was devoid of any emotion. Then she stepped closer to me. And kissed me.
“I know you do,” she said. “And you know I’ve always loved you.”
My heart jumped into my throat.
I should give her credit for understanding how I always needed a moment to process things. So while she grabbed sticky buns and made us some tea, I gathered my heart back up. I pushed it back into my chest and realized that the fullness I felt wasn’t tight or uncomfortable.
And better yet—my chest was no longer hollow.
In the library, we settled on the floor in front of the fire. It was Baz’s particular spot, but it gave us ample room.
I read one of my utterly filthy books, as Baz liked to call them. Gretel sat in between my legs, staring at the dancing flames of the fireplace. Her head nestled between my breasts, and for a long time, the only thing we heard was the crackle of the fire and the clock ticking.
Occasionally, I’d stroke Gretel’s hair, trying to act normal but secretly desperate to know what was on her mind. She didn’twant to talk, though, so I didn’t press. At least not at first, but Gretel knew me well.
“Are you upset with me?” she sighed.
I peered down at her over the edges of my book. “Of course not.”
