Page 75 of Shadows of Nightshade
So why was I smiling?
18
The roaring windwas brisk with late-autumn chill, and my cheeks stung as I lugged my increasingly heavy luggage toward the wide soccer field. Onlookers filled the bleachers, milling around in a crowd of nameless faces. However, Miles’s presence was instantly recognizable amongst the masses.
He wore gray pants, brown soccer cleats, and a long-sleeved sweatshirt to protect him from the cold. His garb was the same as his teammate’s, but what made him stand out was his collected, assertive mannerisms.
It was surprising, because while we were with his other Xing, he was the most passive of the group.
The witch was yelling and waving his arms as he and a teammate argued. It was interesting to see him so passionate—he obviously took the game quite seriously.
Did he approach his legal studies with the same vigor? If so, he’d be an impressive lawyer.
It was then, when he was pointing across the field, that heturned in my direction. His eyes widened, and strict features fell. He stopped shouting and lowered his arm.
I was here to wait for his practice to be over—we all knew this was the plan. I expected him to wave, or perhaps even throw me an acknowledging nod—after all, I was late, and he was clearly busy.
But instead, he ignored his obligations, and, to my horror, jogged across the field. I could almost feel everyone’s curious attention as he stopped in front of me.
“Hey,” he said, and my eyes fell to his lips. “I’m glad you’re here. I was getting worried.”
“I’m fine,” I told him, still catching my breath. “I picked up a few things for later.” I squeezed the strap pressing across my chest.
It had been a long trip up the hill, and clearly, I was in worse shape than I thought.
Miles’s observant gaze drifted to my luggage.
“I’ll get that,” he said, and had already pulled the bag over my head before I could protest. I shivered as his large hand closed over mine. His muscular form blocked the worst of the chill—literally, as he’d placed himself between me and the brunt of the wind—and he lightly nudged my shoulder with his elbow as we walked together. “Practice isn’t too long today,” he said.
Was it just me, or was he trying to watch my face as he spoke?
“We’ll drop by Aine’s house after practice—the garden still needs to be maintained—then go back to Damen’s to regroup,” he finished. The light nature had left his expression at this, and I couldn’t help but wonder…
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
Didn’t he want me here? Or maybe this was too much work—he must have very important witchy things that needed tending. The last thing I wanted was to impose.
“It’s nothing,” Miles muttered. “Just… ghosts.”
“Oh.” That was it? Did he not like ghosts? But did he not realize that ghosts were everywhere?
Although to be fair, I did not like to be around most people. And they were everywhere too. I, too, was exhausted from the overstimulation.
I could relate.
“Don’t worry.” I squeezed his hand. “We can work together. Okay?”
Miles slowed down, and my chest tightened as the rude nature of my question hit.
“I-I don’t want you to do everything for me!” I clarified. “It’s… I thought, maybe if we worked together, we could get finished faster.” His expression remained unchanged, and I added, almost begrudgingly. “I’ll give you some money, obviously.”
It made sense, if both of us were doing the job, we should share the profit.
His nose was wrinkled in distaste. “I’m not going to take your money.”
“But…” I’d been keeping track of their spending and was working out a payment plan with interest. “I already owe you—”
“I’mnottaking any money from you,” Miles interrupted. “Ever. Do you understand?”
