Page 56 of Faerie Fate
Bronwen huffed and rose as well, walking over to the nearest cabinet and pulling open the doors. Looked at the bottles and bowls inside. “That’s not the point.”
“Then what is the point?” Mike pinched his nose. “Because right now, we need Poppy to trust us. And we need to trust her.”
“Don’t you meanGrammie?” Bronwen tossed over her shoulder.
Mike rolled his eyes, and as much as he might hate the idea of their family relation, the gesture was pure Barbara.
“She rooted around in my head,” I reminded him. “If that isn’t the ultimate expression of trust, then I don’t know what is. What else could she need from us? She’s already seen me.”
The real me, themeI can’t hide.
Mike turned, exasperation in the lines of his tight lips. “I’m not sure, Tavi.”
A clear indication todrop it.
“It doesn’t seem like we’re going anywhere right now. Unless we want to start all over and that’s not a good idea.” Mike shook his head, staring at the empty strawberry bowl. Had he eaten? “I say we take her advice and get cozy. We might as well sleep.”
He needed rest.
But I’d slept enough when I was sick, and during all my stints of unconsciousness when I’d had no choice.
Unfortunately, on closer inspection of the cabin, Poppy only had a small twin bed and a couch. She clearly didn’t spend time in this place, and never with company, which made sense if she was the great and powerful bounty hunter she claimed to be. She probably only came back occasionally when she was between jobs.
Bronwen raised her hand. “I’ll take the couch.”
Mike glared at her for a moment before he caught me looking at him and swiftly wiped the expression from his face. A second too late. I saw it, memorized it, and understood.
“Wow. I didn’t realize the thought of sharing a bed with me was so repulsive,” I couldn't help saying.
He jerked back as though the words were bullets. “Tavi…” He blew out a breath. “Just…come on.”
Whatever he wanted to say, he kept to himself. Good. I was too much of a coward to want to hear the words out loud.
Chapter Sixteen
Ifollowed Mike, and Noren pushed past us to nose open the door. It swung wide for him and he disappeared outside with a flick of his tail, off to do whatever he wanted, with free rein.
Poppy must have spelled the place to respond to him.
She had a secret soft spot. Before life beat it out of her.
Mike kept one long-fingered hand on the stair rail, his knuckles white, and I crept behind him as rapid, desperate breaths lifted my chest. Clearly he didn’t want to be forced into sharing a bed with me. I didn’t blame him.
Who would want to be this close when I reeked of Kendrick? Mike had cleaned up and washed the sweat and filth of our journey off his skin. I had not.
The small bedroom took up the entirety of the second floor, with the slanted roof making the room feel even smaller. A solitary bed with an iron headboard and footboard rested against a set of dual windows taller than they were wide.
A hand-knitted blanket draped across the bottom of the mattress, and at its top were two pillows, stacked on top of each other.
Mike said nothing as he slung off the travel cloak. The stolen shirt and pants followed until he stood in the middle of the room in nothing but his boxers. Like he was daring me to say something despite not having the guts to meet my eyes.
The clouds from earlier passed us by and slivers of moonlight arced through the wavy glass. They cast shadows on the strong planes of his chest, the muscles that had filled out since I met him. He wasn’t the lanky, slender fae male I’d met on the side of the road all those years ago.
This version of Mike had seen too much. He’d experienced more in the years we’d known each other than all the combined time before. His flawless skin showed none of the scars from our trials but his eyes were old and weary.
“Are you coming to bed?” he asked.
He dragged his eyes higher, hesitantly, and they landed on mine, the differences in our height forcing him to look down at me. My breath caught.
