“Ah, yes. Fine. I was fine once. I almost died from it.”
A huff of laughter was my reward as he hustled me out of the mausoleum into the balmy night.
I let him keep pushing until we reached a well-lit area, then I twisted the hand I held to inspect it.
“Blisters.” I flipped a stern glance up at him. “Why not admit you’re hurt?”
“I’m not.” He skimmed his other hand under my hair. “I’m mildly inconvenienced.”
“Next time, give me the pellets. You stick to lavender buds or coins, got it?”
“For you?” His eyes glittered. “Badly, I’m afraid.”
“You would live longer if you didn’t.” I searched his face. “I’m always almost getting you killed.”
“You’re worth the risk.” He let me glimpse how much he believed it. “How do I make you see that?”
“Take me for an eye exam?” I attempted to laugh it off. “Sign me up for LASIK?”
A heavy sigh parted his lips, and he stared at me like he might shake me. “I love you.”
The ground pitched under my feet, as if I were about to tumble off the edge of the world as I knew it.
“What?” I couldn’t hear over the tectonic plates realigning within me. “I missed that.”
“I love the woman you were, the woman you are, and the woman you will be.”
Tears scalded the backs of my eyes and flooded down my cheeks in a tide I couldn’t stem.
“I hate having feelings.” I threw my arms around his neck. “I really do.”
“I’m aware.” He pressed his smile into my neck. “And I accept that about you.”
“Good.” I sniffled into his shirt. “I’m pretty sure I love you too.”
“I’ll take it.” He laughed, nipping my ear. “As long as you mean it.”
“I’m wearing a bracelet made of your hair, I sample all of your food, and I don’t complain when you space out knitting and forget to make out with me.”
“I promise to work on my memory.” He rubbed his cheek against mine. “As long as you remember one more chapter isn’t a proper greeting.”
“Okay, okay.” I held on tight. “We’ll work on giving each other space to do what we enjoy.”
“I like watching you blush when you read whale shifters finding love with plankton shifters.”
“I like listening to you knit,” I admitted. “The clacking noises are soothing.”
“How about we work on giving each other clearer cues when we want more than joint hobby time?”
“Deal.”
“Starting now.” He adjusted his grip to cup my nape and pulled me closer. “I’ll go first, if you like.”
A groan tore out of me as the burn for him in my gut struggled against my common sense.
“Bad dae.” I wriggled free. “You’re not going to distract me with your mouth.”
“I have these too.” He held out his hands, palms up, and his eyes grew dark. “Did I change your mind?”