Chapter 3
Poppy
THERE’S A BURST OF LAUGHTER from up in the loft, where Maeve, Alina, and Lyra are, and I smile to myself at the sound of it.
I’ve never had friends like them, have never really felt at home with other girls my age.
For as long as I can remember, it’s just been me and my mom, in the café, baking and frosting and laughing until our sides hurt.
But this summer, I really missed the girls. I missed Alina’s royal eye rolls and Lyra’s infectious laugh and Maeve’s easy smile. And now that we’re all together again, it feels like I’m all together again, like missing them made me feel like a part of me was missing.
The thought makes me shake my head, and I take another sip of my lavender tea before turning the page of my book.
Alina gifted it to me, and I just started it this morning, but I’m already halfway through.
It’s about a mortal healer who saves a fairy prince and is then kidnapped and taken away to his court of shadows.
I don’t read a lot of romance books, but after the first two chapters, I was hooked.
And as my eyes scan the page, my cheeks start to heat up.
Alina didn’t tell me it was that kind of book. Not that I’m complaining.
I keep reading, body growing warmer as the prince’s mouth explores the healer’s ear, then her neck, then her—
A loud knock at the door startles me, and I almost spill my tea on the book. That would’ve been a tragedy.
None of the girls seem to have heard it, if their continued conversation is any indication.
“Someone’s at the door!” I call up to them. But the only response is more laughter.
There’s another knock.
I bite my lip, look at the door, and then glance into the loft again. No one is coming down.
Setting my book and teacup on the table next to the couch, I push to my feet, then cross our sitting room and pull the door open.
And my gaze immediately has to go up.
“Hey.” Maeve’s half-orc stepbrother smiles down at me, his tusks pronounced where they extend up from his lower lip. “I know you. You’re that smart witch in my cooking class.” He leans in the doorway and crosses his arms. His very big, very orcish arms.
My cheeks get a bit warmer.
“I-I’m Poppy,” I say, immediately hating how timid my voice sounds. “I’m Maeve’s roommate. We . . . uh . . . met last year, actually.”
Aric tips his head, one of his brows arching. “We did?”
I nod. “I fell in the snow on the runeball field. You . . . helped me up.”
I’ve not been able to get that embarrassment out of my mind since it happened.
Another moment of consideration ticks by. Then Aric’s hazel eyes brighten, and his lips pull up into a smile. “Yes! I remember now.” His laugh is a low rumble, and it serves only to make my cheeks tingle. “I’m glad you were okay.”
My heart thumps hard, though I’m not sure why.
“Who’s at the door, Pops?”
I turn at the sound of bare feet on the stairs. Maeve skips down the last few, Isis curled around her neck, then sidles up beside me. When she sees her brother, her lips pull down into a frown.
“What are you doing here?”
Aric’s smile falters. “Damn, sis. Don’t act too excited to see me.”
Maeve rolls her eyes and goes to lounge on the couch. I think that means she wants to invite him in, so I pull the door open wider and gesture for Aric to come inside. When he passes by me, I get a whiff of woodsmoke and cedar, like he’s been in a woodshop all day.
“Shoes. Off.” Maeve shoots Aric a stern look, and he quickly complies, pulling his boots off and setting them next to mine as I close the door. They’re so big, I could probably fit two of mine into one of his.
“Um, do you want something to drink or eat?” I ask, voice still quiet. “We have cupcakes—”
“He’s not staying,” Maeve says quickly.
But Aric drops down onto the free couch and gives me another one of those easy smiles. “Were you about to say cupcakes? If so, I’m in.”
Maeve’s stormy gaze slides toward me, and I quickly busy myself with plating two cupcakes, doing my best to disappear into the background.
“So, what is it? You lose your room key again or something?”
“What? No. Nothing like that. And that was once.”
“It was twice,” Lyra calls from the loft. “Hi, Aric.”
Lyra’s energy is different this year. But in a good way. Now that she and Cairn are officially together, she’s been able to cultivate a new peace in her life, and she hasn’t even set anything on fire yet. Sure, it’s still early in the semester, but I’m proud of her.
“Okay, then what?” Maeve sounds equal parts bored and annoyed. Maybe she’s trying to decide whether to conjure a raincloud over Aric’s head right now. I hope she doesn’t. That’s always a mess to mop up.
As I step back into the sitting room, cupcake plate in hand, Aric slouches on the couch and drags a hand down his face. His long hair is braided back and shaved above his ears, allowing the golden sunlight to reflect off the hoops adorning his earlobes.
“I need your help,” he says, voice taking on a pleading tone.
“If I don’t pass these classes, Coach said I’m off the team.
And if it gets really bad, I might have to repeat a year.
” Aric looks up at me as I step toward the couch and offer him the plate.
His eyes shine, but his smile doesn’t quite reach them. “Thanks.”
“Mm-hmm.” I step quickly away, moving toward the side table where my romance book and lavender tea are waiting for me. This is obviously a conversation to be had between Maeve and her brother.
“No. I’ve already tried to help you. You don’t take it seriously enough.”
Maeve has her stern voice on, and it makes me want to quickly get out of here.
“I’ll take it more seriously. I promise.”
“No, Aric. If you need help, you should find a real tutor. Maybe you’ll listen to them, because you certainly never listen to me.”
I grab my book and my teacup, ready to escape. My stockinged feet whisper on the cool floor as I head toward the stairs, intending to go sit with Lyra and Alina until Aric leaves.
But his voice stops me in my tracks.
“Hey, Poppy.”
My shoulders tense up at the sound of my name. I turn slowly to look back at him.
Aric pushes to his feet—he looks so huge in our small space—and tips his head at me. “You’re brilliant. Would you . . .” He flexes his fingers around the cupcake plate still held in his hands. “Would you be willing to tutor me?”
“Uh-uh. Poppy is way too busy,” Maeve says. “Professor Silvermoon roped her into planning an academy ball this year.”
“A ball?” Aric blinks and looks at Maeve, then back at me. “Well, I can help with that. Planning it, I mean.”
“You’ve . . . planned a ball before?” I ask.
Aric reaches up to scratch the back of his head. “Well, no, but—”
“But he’s sure been to enough parties,” Maeve grumbles.
Aric shoots her a look, then levels me with his bright hazel gaze again. “So, what do you say?”
I want to tell him no. I’m barely brave enough to speak up in class, and I’m certainly not a teacher.
Besides, Maeve just said he doesn’t take studying seriously.
And what if he laughs at me? What if he’s embarrassed to be seen around the academy with me?
Everyone knows who Aric Vandermere is, but I fade into the background like a wisp of incense smoke.
He didn’t even know my name, and we’re in the same class. That says all it needs to.
“I—” I start.
“I’d work hard,” Aric says. “I swear.” The sparkle in his eyes dims. Now he’s staring at me intently, and my body feels frozen to the spot.
I need to tell him no. Maeve already did it—multiple times. It’s just one small word. My mouth opens.
“I’ll . . . think about it.”
Ugh. That is not what I was supposed to say!
But Aric smiles at me, just a little, and something in my stomach flip-flops. Charming boys never smile at me like that.
“What?” Maeve asks, her sharp gaze finding me and making me want to vanish. Alina has been playing around with an invisibility spell, and it’d sure come in handy right now.
My face heats up under her scrutiny, and I scramble to explain. “I just—I mean, it wouldn’t hurt to think about it . . .”
Maeve’s eyes narrow. “You know he’s going to drive you crazy, right? He’ll show up late, forget his books, get distracted by pretty wit—”
“I won’t!” Aric interjects so vehemently that the cupcakes I gave him almost fall off the plate. “I’m serious about this, Maeve. I need to pass these classes, or I’m done for.”
There’s a desperation in his voice that I recognize. I’ve felt that same panic before, that fear of disappointing everyone, of not being good enough. It makes me soften to him and his plight.
Maeve must see something in my expression because she lets out a long, dramatic sigh. “Fine, think about it. But if he wastes your time, Pops, just say the word, and I’ll hex him into next week.”
We’re not supposed to use hexes at school, or ever. They’re frowned upon in the magical community.
Not that Maeve is being serious . . . right?
“Noted,” Aric says quickly, his smile returning—brighter this time, more hopeful. He doesn’t look nearly as frightened of Maeve as he should be.
“Okay, she said she’d think about it. Now it’s time for you to go,” Maeve says, getting up from the couch.
She reaches to take the cupcake plate from Aric.
He snatches one of the cupcakes first, and then she’s pushing him toward the door—or trying, at least. I don’t think she could even budge him if he didn’t let her.
“I’d be a good student,” Aric calls back to me as Maeve ushers him toward the door. He pulls his boots on with one hand, holding his cupcake in the other. “I promise. I—”
Then Maeve closes the door behind him, and his voice is muffled through the wood, unintelligible.
She lets out a long sigh, then casts a look at me, her gaze softer now that Aric’s gone. “You don’t have to help him, you know. You’re busy enough this year. I don’t want you to overdo it and stress yourself out.”
“I-I know.” I look down at the romance book still held in my hand. “Thanks for looking out for me.”
“Always, Pops. And if you need me to tell him no for you, just say the word.” Maeve pulls me in for a quick hug, being careful not to spill my now-lukewarm tea.
“I like making the big brute pout.” She grabs the cupcake from the plate she snagged from Aric and takes a bite, getting vanilla frosting on her lips.
Then she brushes past me and climbs the stairs back to the loft, leaving me standing there in a patch of sunlight, wondering what I’m going to do about Aric Vandermere.