Page 93 of Starchaser
“See something you like?”
I roll my eyes, fighting the blush that creeps into my cheeks. “Nothing I haven’t seen before.”
It’s true, but for some reason, when he was wounded in my bedroom, I didn’t look at him the way I look at him in this moment. And he certainly didn’t look at me the way he does now, as I shimmy out of my trousers and pull my shirt over my head, standing before him in a silk camisole and a pair of ruffled bloomers.
“What’s the matter?” I cock my head, a teasing grin playing on my lips. “Were you expecting something else?”
A crease forms between his brows, his teeth clenched as he runs his hands over his face, through his hair, sending blond strands tumbling into his eyes.
He laughs.
For a split second, I want to throw myself into the ocean and never resurface, wishing I didn’t leave my daggers in my room upstairs. “I hate you,” I mutter, crossing my arms over my chest, feeling more exposed than I ever have in my entire life.
But he crosses the distance between us in a few strides, his hand raised as if to cup my jaw, but his fingers hover in midair, a breath away from touching. His eyes search mine as he smiles softly, dropping his hand. “If only that were true.” He chuckles again, but his gaze intensifies, pinning me to the spot, making it difficult to breathe. “Forgive me—it’s only that I had the fleeting thought that you’d be armed to the teeth with daggers and pistols.” His lips quiver, as if fighting back another bout of laughter, but his expression turns serious, his voice somewhat thick when he murmurs, “It’s nice to seeyou, Aster.”
I blink, unable to form words. Unable to think clearly—rationally.
And then I shove him into the water.
When his head breaks the surface a moment later, I think he might die of laughter. But I have only a moment to feel smug before he grabs me by my calves and pulls me into the water with him.
“What are you—” Water fills my mouth, and I sputter, coughing.
“What?” He cocks his head, mocking me. “Were you expecting something else?”
I shove at his chest as his arms tighten around me, pulling me closer, but I can’t help laughing with him as we drift out from the mouth of the cave and into the sea. Real, genuine laughter that leaves me gasping for breath.
I allow myself to look at him—really look at him. His eyes, crinkled with joy, his open mouth. The shake of his shoulders. His head thrown back in abandon. Purely joyful. Wholly himself.
Titus.
Suddenly, he falls quiet, his gaze roving my face as he lifts a hand, his thumb stroking my cheek. “What is it, love?”
I didn’t feel the tear slip from my eye until he smears it across my skin. I want to tell him about what Leo said, but if there’s even a small possibility that she’s right, I can’t afford to expose her.
Even if it means I will lose him.
“I don’t know what’s going to happen today,” I tell him, using the truth to mask the lie. “I’m afraid.”
He frowns, tucking a strand of wet hair behind my ear. “I am, too,” he whispers, his voice strained, as if it costs him something to admit it. “But we still have a little time before the sun comes up.” He looks up at the tapestry of stars twinkling overhead. “It’s still night,” he says, meeting my gaze once more. “I think we’ve earned a few hours to just be, aye?”
To just be—I almost laugh at the simplicity of it.
Titus and Aster.
Not Titus the prince. Not Captain Shade the vigilante. Not Aster the pirate, the maid, the lady, the rebel, or the knight.
Just Titus and Aster.
“I want to show you something,” he says, drifting slowly away from me, his hands still lingering on the small of my back. “Do you trust me?”
I quirk a brow. “I don’t know if I should answer that?”
He barks another laugh. “Follow me.”
He dives below the surface before I can say a word.
Gently, he tugs my ankle.
