Page 42 of Madness Becomes Her
Fin swipes at the wind with his knife, nearly tripping over the rest of the birthday cake, and I rush him, capturing him by the front of his jacket to keep him steady.
Pulling him close, I land chest to chest with him.
He captures one arm around my body, one hand still raised in the air with the knife in his hand.
“I’m not sick,” I whisper, knocked breathless by his proximity.
“Then what is that flush in your cheeks?”
“I’d rather not talk about it here,” I tell him.
He looks down, registering all the Wonderland creatures currently eyeing us like we’re the best entertainment they’ve seen all year.
“Why ever not?”
“Fin, it’s not something I can tell you here.”
He simply nods, dropping the knife as he wraps his hand around my wrist and drags me off the table behind him toward the house.
When we’re inside, I have no plan for how to calm him down without feeling exposed.
He takes me all the way to the bedroom, slamming the door behind us and then the window. The bedside candle flickers to life as he wafts his hand toward it, the first bout of magic I’ve witnessed him do. Although I’m still uncertain his ears weren’t magically glamoured before.
“Is this private enough for you?” he huffs.
I sigh, rubbing my temples.
“Tell me why your cheeks were red if it wasn’t the wind and his games.”
Now, he’s referring to the wind with a pronoun?
This world will never cease to confuse my brain.
“It was because you touched me,” I admit, feeling like the world is spinning out of control around me.
I don’t know how he will react, which has me on edge.
“I caused your sickness?” His face changes as he strides backward a few steps toward the dresser nearest the window.
“What? No!”
This is going great, Eleanor.
Striding over, I look up at him.
His green eyes are filled with worry I placed there, and guilt fizzles in my stomach with an acrid burn.
“You reached under the table and squeezed my leg earlier, do you recall?”
His brows furrow, but he nods.
Okay, you’ve got this. Pull up your big girl panties.
I’ve been with men before, but telling Finlo Pennington I’m attracted to him and explaining attraction feels like the most nerve-wracking thing I’ve ever endured.
“I liked it,” I admit. “That’s why my cheeks were flushed.”
His eyes narrow. “So, I caused your sickness. You should’ve told me so right then instead of making me try to fight someone else for the offense. I’ll need to apologize. Oh, what will the rest of the party think?”
