The mood had changed very quickly. “It’s okay,” I said brightly. Probably too bright. “When I get back, I’ll figure something out.” And, well. I hadn’t meant to say that.
So of course he pounced on it. “Get back?” he asked, snapping his gaze to mine.
“Uh. Yes? I mean. I’ll be going out again. For a while.”
His face went carefully and explicitly blank. “Oh. For how long?”
For as long as it takes to no longer hurt to have you this close.
I shrugged. “Don’t know this time. Will probably be awhile. Morgan’s sending me… away.”
“Where?”
“Sorry, Ryan. Doesn’t work like that. Wizarding business.”
He narrowed his eyes. “I’m the Knight Commander of the Castle Guard. You live in the castle. Therefore, you’re my business.”
That irritated the fuck out of me. “Even the King doesn’t always get to know what Morgan and I do,” I said. “Maybe you should remember that, Knight Commander.” Which was a lie. I pretty much told the King everything. Morgan would just smack me upside the head while the King laughed at me.
“And how long will it take for you to get captured again?” he said. “What then? Wait until I ride in to rescue you?”
I laughed at him. “Oh fuck off. You’ve never had to rescue me. Not once. As a matter of fact, if anything, I rescued you last night. You just stood next to me, all dashing and immaculate. Remember? While I had all the magic?” I wiggled my fingers at him.
And his eyes glazed over as he watched my fingers and said, “Ungh.”
I frowned. “What’s wrong with you?” I didn’t think I’d accidentally cursed him.
“Nothing,” he said in a rough voice. “Just. Lightheaded. It’s fine.”
“If you’re sure.”
And then we just stood there.
I didn’t know if we were fighting or not. I thought I was mad, but I also thought I was really turned-on. I wondered if those were sort of the same thing. And while I knew why I was turned-on (I mean, hello, proximity: he was like right there and I could smell him), I couldn’t for the life of me figure out what I was supposed to be mad about.
“These are very confusing times,” I said.
“No shit,” he muttered.
“No cursing,” I scolded him. “You’re a knight. You don’t get to do that. You gave up that right when you swore your oath to the King. You have to lead by example now. So say stuff like ‘fudge toast’ and ‘mothercrackers’ instead of ‘shit whore’ and ‘fuck storm.’”
“I can assure you I have never felt the need to say shit whore or fuck storm in my life,” he said.
I gaped at him. “But you just did. There are little girls in your fan clubs! They are young and impressionable.” And they could be very mean, I knew from the eight times I’d gone to the meetings. Well, one of them was mean, anyway. She told me that I obviously knew nothing about Ryan Foxheart because his favorite color was burgundy and he one day dreamed of owning a sheep farm. Her name was Tina and she was a bitch, and I hated her stupid face. His favorite color was scarlet, and he wanted to open a bakery.
(Really, none of that was true. It was just the sort of things we discussed in the meetings.)
He grinned at me again, and the butterflies in my stomach turned into dragons and laid waste to my innards.
“Not that I would know,” I said quickly. “I just assumed that only little girls would go to those things. Right? Because anyone else would just be weird.” Very weird. Also, I’d been to sixteen meetings and I was thinking of running for fan club treasurer next time. There was already a girl in place named Deidre, but I would destroy her in the next round of elections. She was twelve. I was a wizard. I couldn’t lose. “Look. This has been… fun.” Lie. This had been nerve-racking and I needed to go masturbate. “But I have to go. I’ve got stuff to do before I head out again.” Masturbate. “Wizard stuff. Like… secret wizard stuff.” Masturbate.
Ryan’s smile faded. “You’re really leaving?”
I sighed. “It’s… complicated. It’s better this way.”
“For who?” he asked.
“It doesn’t matter,” I said quietly. “Ryan. Look. It’s…. For what it’s worth, I’m glad we’re friends now. Right? We’re friends?”