Page 82 of Crossbones
“Fuck off,” he says, but there’s no heat in it and I see the humor glisten in his eyes now.
I hold up my hands. “I’m just saying, I’ll reassure you until my last breath how much I can’t get enough of you and what you do to me. But I’m also never going to stop giving you shit about‘figuring it out’because I also like seeing you blush way too much.”
“I don’t blush,” he scoffs.
“You do, and it’s one of my favorite things about you.”
“You’re impossible,” he mutters, but I see him hide a smile as he goes to walk away again.
“James—” I wait for him to turn, reluctant to part ways yet. “Come find me later?”
There’s a brief moment of intimacy shared between us in the quiet hallway. I marvel at how all I want to do is close the distance and rush back to him. I want to drag him back into that room for a repeat because without touching him, I feel adrift. The nod he gives me sends damn butterflies through my stomach making me feel giddy and I know I won’t be able to get him out of my mind. Especially when he drags his bottom lip through his teeth, giving me a sly look before turning to really leave this time.
Bastard. I can’t wipe the grin from my face as I head the opposite direction, knowing the man is nothing if not deliberate and for all my teasing, whatever this is between us, doesn’t really feel like an experiment and not for the first time, I wonder what the fuck that means.
JAMES
I’m on deck, watching the silver shores of Argentum come into view but my thoughts are centered around the man standing next to me. The seas were smooth and the wind favorable making the journey here fairly uneventful. But even so, I was pulled in many directions over the last few days, dealing with this or that; it made private moments with Caspian nearly impossible. My need for him has only grown—it’s like a dam broke and there’s no stopping what I previously was too nervous to explore. Or maybe it’s just him—I certainly haven’t felt this way about another man before, and I have a feeling I won’t find anything close to this in the future either.
The other night, he’d left the book of poetry open on my desk and I still can’t get the words out of my head:
there is a hunger in him
that has nothing to do with survival
and everything to do
with being seen
And then, scrawled in the prince’s handwriting, was a single line:
Even the deepest waters cannot drown what is meant to burn
I scrub a hand over my face and try to cool down the heat that’s been plaguing me. Our stolen moments together have been incredibly hot, but I’maching to drag him off this ship and find a private room to hole up in for the next twenty-four hours.
We disembark and part ways from the crew, who will handle resupplying us for the rest of the journey. The next part is the most perilous because we’re going to be entering the Straights, and then the Stormwrack. There isn’t anywhere to resupply in the Stormwrack so whatever we carry in has to sustain us for the length of time we’re sailing there as well as the journey back. It’s just one of the many parts of sailing there that make it so dangerous.
I follow Caspian into theSilver Stag. The place falls deathly quiet as we enter and even Caspian makes a thoughtful sound as we make our way to the bar. I’m listening to him order the drinks but I’m looking out over the crowd of patrons.
Something feels off. It’s not crowded but the people that are here don’t seem happy to see us. I watch a man slip out the front door with a quick look over his shoulder.
“I don’t like this,” I grumble.
Caspian hands me an ale and looks over the crowd as he takes a sip. The whispers start up again and while people go back to their drinks, their focus isn’t quite diverted from us.
“Not a friendly lot,” Caspian mutters. “We might want to cut down our time here.”
I throw back the rest of my ale and order a bottle of rum instead. Caspian requests food and we make our way to a table in the back corner. We’d just finished eating when the door opens.
I curse under my breath at the figure darkening the door.
“Fuck.”
Caspian looks over. “Who is that?”
“James, I hoped I’d find you here.”
“Anders.”
