Page 62 of Fearless

He tells me to stop looking at him like that.

My voice sounds far away. “And how am I looking at you?”

He says I’m looking at him like a promise I can’t keep.

This confuses me. Or maybe it doesn’t. Maybe it makes perfect sense.

“I want to tell you a secret, but I’m scared of it.”

He offers to say it for me.

I nod.

I notice what is hooked around his fingers, dangling from the hand beneath my knees.

“You found my shoes!”

He whispers the three-worded secret.

“You found my shoes for me.”

Another murmured declaration of devotion.

Tears prick my eyes. “… you found my shoes for me.”

He says he loves me. Again and again.

I cover my face with a pillow, smothering out the light.

Groaning, I roll over, nearly slipping off the side of my bed. My head pounds as I dare to peek open an eye and instantly regret it. Sunlight has long since poured into my room to bathe the bed in warmth, as if the rays wish to caress my cheek.

Throwing the covers over my aching head, I happily hide from the world beyond. Except, the world beyond begins to speak.

“You know, I bet noon, but Kai was confident on two hours past that,” says the familiar voice. “He was right. I suppose I should have listened. He does know you far better.”

“I wouldn’t give him too much credit,” I grumble from beneath the sheets. “It’ll go to his head.”

Gathering my courage, I slowly peel back the fort I’ve buried myself beneath and squint in the painful light. I know by voice alone whooccupies this room with me. But that doesn’t make it any less shocking when I see his green eyes and tousled blond hair.

He is in my room. Shocking still, he came to see me. I don’t remember much of last night, but I must have done something right. Now, I just need to ensure I don’t ruin this progress.

I scramble into a sitting position as Kitt so obviously points out, “Champagne is not nearly as fun in the morning.”

My heavy eyes land on where he sits beside my bed. The king is watching me closely and all I can manage is a weak, “My head is pounding.”

“That,” he says slowly, “I expected. So I had Gail mix this up for you.”

He grabs a glass from my bedside table, swirling the murky liquid within it. I try my best not to seem shocked by his kind gesture. But it’s difficult to ignore the hope swelling in my chest. “That looks… terrifying,” I finally croak. “What even is it?”

His smile is worrisome. “It’s best if you don’t know. But it will make you feel better. Trust me.”

I cut him a skeptical glance after peering at the liquid. He inclines his head, urging me to drink. But as soon as I press the glass to my lips and tip my throbbing head back, I immediately regret it. The taste can only be described as foul, and I’m momentarily considering spitting the grainy texture out.

“No, don’t give up yet.” The corner of Kitt’s mouth kicks up, and that alone keeps me going.

Hastily gulping down the rest of the vile liquid, I push the cup into his hand with a sputtering cough. “That was…” I physically shudder. “That was awful.”

“Gail’s hangover remedy is not for the weak, let me tell you.” His gaze grows distant. “Kai and I have endured it many times over the years.”

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