Page 51 of Twisted Fate

“Good girl,” he praises. “Now again.”

I hold his gaze, standing so close I can count his eyelashes. The pressure in my chest eases, and my throat isn’t so tight I can’t breathe. My grip on the blanket loosens as I exhale again, and my pulse returns to a normal pace.

His eyes flick back and forth across my face. “Okay?”

I swallow the lump in my throat. “I’m good,” I say, placing my hand over where his still rests on my shoulder. “Thank you.”

His lips curl into the most genuine smile I’ve ever seen from him when he lets his hand fall back to his side. “How are you feeling now? Are you up for a late dinner?”

“What were you thinking? I don’t eat, uh, emotions.”

“Though you seem to be enjoying the fact you can sense mine.” He licks his bottom lip. “Anything you want, name it. I don’thaveto feed on emotions all the time, just enough to keep me alive. I can feed once a week, and it’s plenty. That’s to say, I eat human food, too.”

I catch my lower lip between my teeth. “You never talk about it.”

“About what?”

“Feeding. Being fae.”

His forehead creases. “I wasn’t aware you wanted to hear about it.”

My cheeks heat. “I’m saying youcantalk about it. It’s not going to freak me out.” I need to stop talking.

His eyes lighten as pleasant surprise flares through the new bond we share. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Oh-kay.” The word comes out more like two words.

He tilts his head. “You’re quite the human.”

There goes my pulse again. “Did youjustmeet me?”

He chuckles. “It feels like I’ve known you much longer.”

That brings an unexpected smile to my lips. “Yeah, I guess you’re not so terrible yourself.”

“All right, smart mouth. Let’s see what we can find in the kitchen.”

I drape the blanket over a chair and follow him out of the office.

Tonight isnotgoing how I thought it would.

It’s been a week and a half since Tristan saved my life and showed me a different side to the fae leader I’ve been dealing with. I still think about it every day. I go to class and think about him. I sit in my room doing homework and think about him; there aren’t many times I’mnotthinking about him. I have no idea what to do, so I’ve decided to avoid it—and byit, I mean Tristan. As much as possible. He’s respected me and stayed out of my dreams, but when I’m awake, I’m never sure when I’m going to see him.

As the days pass, fewer and fewer of his emotions seep through. The ones that do are a mixture of worry, anger, and uncertainty, as if maybe he’s trying to figure something out. It’s rare he feels anything light or warm. Considering the constant pressure he’s under, it’s understandable.

One day, I can’t sense his emotions at all. Part of me is relieved, but hell, it was interesting knowing I had a leg up on at least one of his fae abilities for a handful of days. Oh, well. I’ll take being human over being able to read emotions any day. Even with the absence of his emotions, I still think about him way too much.

At the hotel on Monday, I almost kiss Skylar when she tells me Tristan is out of the office all day. I don’t because I value my life, but the heavy sense of relief that pours over me is borderline embarrassing.

“Tristan wanted to talk to you about something,” she says.

I hesitate before asking, “What...uh, what did he want to talk to me about?”

“Westbrook Inc. hosts a charity gala every year, and he wants you to spearhead the planning of the event.”

“Are you serious?” Excitement bubbles through me. An event like this would look amazing on my resume.

She gives me a look.

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