Chapter 18
Eighteen
HAVEN
The look of concentration on his face is so comical, I can’t help needling him.
“For the dragon heir, you are exceptionally bad at this.” It’s hard to keep my mouth in a straight line when he scowls up at me.
“It’s not as if spelling obscure words with z’s, x’s, and q’s was a requirement of the job.”
“Clearly.”
Pressing his lips together, he glances back at the small wooden tiles in front of him sternly, as if he glares at them hard enough it will change the letters etched on them.
“So, what was a requirement of being the dragon heir, then?” I ask, enjoying him struggling way more than I should.
He doesn’t look up from his pieces when he says, “The ability to incinerate creatures I find annoying.”
I lift my brows. “Was that supposed to be a threat?” I ask, the grin I’ve been holding back finally breaking through.
Considering how much Becks has done for me over the last two weeks, I should be cutting him a break.
Not only has he kept me hidden from the demon, but he’s also helped me unlock my magic safely.
Every day this week I’ve been able to create fire and keep it stable.
I even lit a log and then put it out yesterday.
I’m still a ways away from going up against pure evil, but it’s more control than I’ve ever had before.
So yes, I owe Becks, but annoying someone has never been this much fun.
A muscle jumps in his jaw as he pretends to ignore me. Finally, he picks up four of the squares and lays them on the board, spelling “BEAR.”
“Six points,” I say. “Congrats! That’s two more points than your last word.”
“You’re a brat,” he says, leaning back with his arms crossed angrily over his chest.
I grin.
He’s bad at this game. Like, epically bad.
I don’t know why he keeps playing with me.
I get there’s not much to do in the cabin, board games like this being one of the few forms of entertainment, but he’s lost every time we’ve played and it clearly upsets him.
He’s grumpy for at least an hour after each game.
Yet each night he keeps putting himself through the same misery.
“Not a fan of losing board games, are you?” I ask with a grin.
“Not a fan of losing anything.”
“Funny, because you’ve been doing an awful lot of it lately.”
He gives me a narrow-eyed look for a few moments, then a slow smile lifts his mouth. The look he gives me makes my stomach bottom out, and the smile slip from my lips.
“It’s kind of hot in here, isn’t it?” he asks.
I shrug. My throat is suddenly feeling a little dry.
We have a fire going, so I guess it’s a little stuffy.
I start to answer him when he reaches over his head and grabs his t-shirt and pulls it over his head.
Oh no, not again.
Becks has spent half his time here in a state of undress.
I wouldn’t normally complain, except I can never seem to keep my cool.
Each morning, when he comes back from his jog, sweaty and shirtless, or I cross his path before he goes to bed in only low-slung joggers, it leaves me tongue-tied and blushing.
I usually end up ducking my head and fleeing so I don’t make a bigger fool of myself, but we’re in the middle of our game. A retreat isn’t possible.
“What are you doing?” I ask, feeling my face heating by the second.
His head pops free, his hair appealingly ruffled, and he drops his shirt next to him.
“You know I run hot,” he says, like it’s a perfectly normal reason to undress in front of someone. “You don’t mind, do you?”
Feeling a little like I’m in a fog, I shake my head, doing all I can to keep my eyes from dropping below his neck.
“Good. Your turn,” he says with a smile that shows too many teeth.
Sucking in a gulp of air, I glance down at my tiles, my mind a jumble as I try to put together words with the letters in front of me.
Maybe it’s just subliminal messaging, but the room suddenly does feel a bit heated.
After several minutes of broken concentration, I can only come up with a three-letter word worth five points, one point less than he just laid.
With a huff, I place them on the board. Not my finest move. I’m usually much more—
I glance up, catching the smug look on his face, and it hits me.
He’s not overheated. He’s trying to throw me off my game. And it’s working!
Of all the dirty ways to win a game.
He leans forward, his biceps bulging when he places them on his knees, to see what I’ve just played.
“Five points. Congrats! That’s twelve points less than your last word,” he says, not even trying to hide the glee on his face.
I shoot him a narrow-eyed glance that only makes his smile brighter.
Overheated, are we? Oh, I’ll help you cool off.
Without a word, I pop out of my seat.
“Where are you going?” he asks as I stomp into the kitchen.
“Just getting some water,” I answer with false sweetness. “You’re right, it is a little hot in here.”
“That sounds good,” he calls over his shoulder. “Would you mind bringing me a glass too?”
“I was planning on it,” I quip.
I don’t have to let the water run very long at all before it’s ice cold. I find the largest cup I can in the cupboard and fill it up, not bothering with one for me. This water is all for him.
He’s staring down at his tiles again when I return.
“I’m sure this will help you cool down,” I say, and then pour the entire glass over his head.
He jumps out of his seat, sputtering, his hair plastered to his skull and rivulets of water trailing down his face. He looks over at me in shock, goose bumps littering his chest and arms.
“Better now?” I ask, fighting against another smile as I set the empty glass down.
He gapes at me. “I can’t believe you just did that.”
“I can’t believe you tried to distract me from the game with all that,” I say, gesturing up and down his shirtless chest. “You’re just a dirty little cheat.”
The corners of his mouth twitch. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I cross my arms over my chest and give his ridiculous abs a pointed look. “You know exactly what I’m talking about,” I say, tearing my gaze from his twenty-six pack to pin him with a glare.
He loses the battle and his lips twist into a smile. “Are you trying to say that my chest and abs are distracting? You should have said something sooner. I had no idea.”
“Mmm hmm.”
I turn my head as he shakes his head with a laugh, sending droplets flying. When I turn back to him, there’s a calculated gleam in his eyes.
“You know, that was really refreshing.” He takes a step forward.
I retreat a step.
“You look a little overheated too. A little flushed.” The grin that spreads across his face is nothing short of wicked. “I’m guessing the snow is mighty refreshing.”
“Becks,” I warn, taking another step back. “Don’t even think it.”
“Oh, I’m doing more than thinking it,” he says, and then lunges for me, but I’m ready and dart out of the way.
I squeal as he gives chase, running to put the dining table between us.
For a minute we run comically around it, first one way, and then the other.
I get a stitch in my side from laughing as we dart back and forth.
When it’s clear he’s not going to catch me this way, Becks gets fed up and jumps right over it, landing in front of me in one bound.
Giving a shout of surprise, I turn to flee, but he scoops me up, effortlessly throwing me over his shoulder.
“Gah, you’re getting me all wet,” I laugh-yell at him, wheezing because his shoulder’s digging into my stomach.
“And whose fault is that?”
I can’t see his face, but I can hear the smile in his voice.
“One hundred percent yours! You were using your hotness to distract—”
“You think I’m hot?” he asks, sounding interested.
Butterflies start battling in my compressed stomach, but I play it off.
“Becks, there is no one in this world or the other who doesn’t think you’re hot. The sun is bright. The night is dark. And Becks is hot. Get over yourself already.”
“Hmm,” is all he says as he eats up the space to the back door.
When he reaches it, he throws it open and steps outside. I’m slapped by a gust of frigid wind that gives me a full-body shiver.
There was another snowstorm last night. Today there’s at least another foot of fresh snow on the ground. He stomps straight into it, barefoot.
“What are you doing?” I shriek.
“There’s a drift of snow on the side of the house that should be big enough to cool you off.”
“Becks, no!” I all but scream, but the sting is lost because I’m still laughing.
Becks halts, but I can’t see much except his back from my upside-down position. He tries to drag me off his shoulder so he can toss me into the snow, but I’m not having it. I’m all arms and legs and latch on to him like a spider monkey, grabbing on to whatever part of him that I can.
I’m sure under normal circumstances he’d be able to easily pluck me from his body, but he’s laughing so hard he’s sloppy and uncoordinated. Which is how I somehow end up pressed against his bare chest, clinging to him with my arms looping his neck and my legs locked around his waist.
When I look up and realize my face is only inches from his, the laughter dies in my chest.
Becks sobers as well, and we stand like that, him barefoot in the snow, me plastered against him. We’re both breathing hard from the ordeal. Becks’ cheeks are ruddy from the cold and exertion. With every inhale, Becks’ chest brushes up against mine.
The moon is bright tonight, and with my enhanced eyesight I can see every angle and curve of his face.
“Your feet have to be freezing,” I say, my voice whisper-soft.
“I told you, I run hot,” he says again, his gaze traveling across my face slowly before stopping on my lips.
I lick them, and from behind wet strands of hair, his green eyes flash.
As my breathing slows, my heartbeat picks up.
“You did,” I agree.
I don’t realize that one of his arms is wrapped around me, helping support me, until he tightens his grip, anchoring me more fully against him and bringing my upper body almost flush with his.
The tousled hair falling over his brow partly hides his striking green eyes. I slide one arm from around his neck and gently brush it back from his forehead. I can’t stop myself from threading my fingers through his hair, trailing them over his head and down to the nape of his neck.
His eyes heat, but a shiver runs through him.
“Getting cold?” I ask, breathless.
He gives a slow shake of his head as he raises a hand to my face. He traces my top and then bottom lip with his thumb, and that simple touch sends heat rushing through me, quick and consuming.
“Not even close,” he answers. “You?”
I murmur a soft no, even as the wind whips around us again, biting and cold. But I barely feel it. I don’t think I’ve ever known warmth like this.
Time feels suspended, the world holding its breath around us. Then it breathes a sigh of relief as Becks’ lips brush against mine.
I’m not even sure who moved first.
Maybe it was him.
Maybe it was me.
Maybe we both just stopped pretending we didn’t want this.
The kiss is soft, almost hesitant, like we’re afraid to break whatever fragile thing has just sparked to life between us.
I vaguely notice another gust of wind that sends my hair flying around us. Becks twists, putting his body between me and the frigid gale, then my back is pressed into the cabin.
The kiss deepens, and I’m swept up in a maelstrom of sensation—warmth, breath, heartbeat—all colliding in perfect, reckless sync as our mouths find each other again and again.
Every brush of his mouth sends a shiver through me, chasing away the cold, replacing it with something fierce and bright that blooms in my chest.
He tastes like wind and heat and everything I didn’t know I crave.
My fingers find the back of his neck, clutching him closer as if the world might fall apart if I let go.
The snow, the cold, the night around us all fade until there’s only this. Only him.
A flash of bright light behind my closed lids makes me wince, and Becks rips his mouth from mine.
I stare wide-eyed at him. Almost not believing what just happened.
But he’s not looking back. His gaze is trained on something to the side, and when I follow it, I see headlights shining through the trees as a car makes its way toward us.
A spike of fear shoots through me.
We haven’t seen another person the entire time we’ve been here.
Without looking away from the oncoming vehicle, Becks lowers me to my feet.
The snow seeps through my socks, making me gasp lightly, but Becks still doesn’t look at me. Instead, he just issues a command.
“Get inside.”