Page 86 of Last Chorus

I hide my smile behind my mug. “Are you flirting with me?”

He pauses to yawn and stretch, the movements slow and intentional, arms lifting, muscles bunching and extending as he rotates and bends from side to side. I ogle him shamelessly until a chuckle lifts my gaze from the music notes wrapping around his hip.

Even his dimples look smug as he sits and pats his lap. I dutifully unfold my legs and give him my feet.

As his thumbs work magic on my soles, he says idly, “Everything, and I meaneverythingI do, is me flirting with you. Case in point—the tattoo you were just staring at.” He lifts my feet so I can see it. “Do you recognize the song?”

Leaning forward, I study the notes and my mouth drops open in shock. Not only is it the Night Theory song that put us on the map, it’smyhandwriting.

Wilder snorts. “I don’t know whether to be offended or proud that the thought of my dick is so distracting you’ve never actually read the music.”

I trail a finger over the notes, gratified when he shivers. He lowers my feet back to his lap and resumes massaging them.

I can’t seem to stop smiling. “What about when we argue? Are you still flirting then?”

“Definitely.” He slants a knowing smile my way. “I knew that comment I made on New Year’s would piss you off.”

I laugh, then lower my voice in a comic impersonation of his. “‘You’ve never even seen me flirt. In any case, I think we can agree that ship has sailed.’” I punch his shoulder playfully. “Asshole.”

He grins, lifting my foot to kiss my ankle. “Undeniablyyourasshole.”

I arch a brow. “Speaking of…”

Wilder throws his head back and laughs, the sound rich and lovely, his stomach shaking under my feet. I watch him in a lovestruck daze, my ears and heart full. He’s still grinning when he plucks my mug from my hands and puts it on the coffee table, then pulls me into his lap. Grabbing his shoulders, I roll my hips and grin as his eyes darken.

Just when I think he’s going to crack, his hands tighten on my waist to stop my movements.

“Fairy, wait.”

The regret on his face protects me from the sting of rejection, but I still frown. “What’s wrong?”

He hesitates, fear flashing in his eyes. And Iknow.

“Already?” I whisper.

Confusion draws his eyebrows together. “Already what?”

I move off his lap and settle beside him, then reach for my tea. A long sip fortifies me.

“Katherine warned me something bad was coming.” I glance at him, catching his shocked expression before resignation replaces it.

He leans forward on his elbows, fingers tangling in his hair. “What did she say exactly?”

“‘A storm approaches, and only together can you keep the light safe.’ She made it clear that you’re the light.”

Head jerking up, he twists to face me. Reading the wary hope on his face, I belatedly realize his fear wasn’t about whatever news he’s received but about my reaction to it. He was worried I was going to leave him.

Taking his closest hand, I thread our fingers together. “She basically told me to pull my head out of my ass and trust you. And I do, Wilder. I trust you—and us—implicitly. Whatever it is you need to tell me, I’m not going to run. I’m not leaving you. We’re going to face it together.”

A moment later his mouth is on mine, the kiss deep, fierce, and all too brief. Cradling my face, he whispers, “You’re amazing. I love you. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything yesterday.”

I nip at his lower lip. “It’s okay. I’m used to you withholding crucial information due to misplaced protective instincts.”

He huffs a laugh. “I take it I have Katherine to thank for last night?”

I wince. “Pretty much.”

“So stubborn,” he murmurs, his eyes alight with humor.

---