30. Aisling
THIRTY
Aisling
PAST
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Fi…nn.” I manage to stretch his one-syllable name into two as I practically wail in displeasure.
“They’re just steps,” he tells me, pointing to the steps in question. The ones I, moments ago, referred to as the “Steps of Doom.”
I scoff, folding my arms across my chest. “They aren’t just steps. They’re century-old steps that you, for some reason, want me to walk down backward? I thought you liked me. Why do you want me to die, Finn? Why ?”
He lets out a throaty laugh that makes my stomach do this fluttering thing. It’s annoying because it seems to be happening more frequently lately. His laugh is literally perfect, though. It’s deep and rich, and—oh, god, when did I become so infatuated with this man?
“You’re not going to die, Ash. I promise. I’ll be with you the entire time.”
“Okay, that’s reassuring, but I still don’t understand why I can’t go down the regular way—like a normal person.”
I was super excited when he said we were going to the witch’s Wishing Steps next because—really, who wouldn’t be? We’ve already visited the Witch’s Stone and the Witch’s Kitchen, so why wouldn’t I want to see her steps, too?
Honestly, I’m not even sure we’re discussing the same witch here because I get a bit distracted when Finn is talking.
His mouth is just so?—
“Remember you asked if you’d get to make a wish?”
“Yes,” I say suspiciously, eyeing the stairs. They’re not scary in theory—the steps, that is. There is even a railing, and at the bottom, I can see sunshine and hear the sound of trickling water. But the entrance? That’s another matter entirely. It’s definitely giving witchy vibes with its cave-like exterior that seems to appear out of nowhere. I can absolutely picture some noblewoman sneaking into these woods to find the witch who lives in the cave so she can buy a love potion or whatever.
“This is where you do it.”
“By flinging myself down a flight of stairs? Why can’t I just toss a coin?”
His shoulders shake as soft laughter fills the air. “Sorry. I don’t make the rules.”
“Okay, so what are the rules exactly?”
He puts both hands on my shoulders and turns me to face him. I do my best not to squirm under his gaze.
“The legend is?—”
“You Irish and your legends and myths.”
He tilts his head, a grin spreading across his face. “So mouthy today.”
“I’m just in a good mood,” I tell him. “I like spending time with you.”
He seems slightly taken aback by my sudden candor but recovers quickly. “Even if I make you walk backward down those scary steps?”
“Well, I haven’t technically agreed to it yet.”
“You’ll do it,” he says confidently.
“How do you know?”
“Because” He reaches out, and almost as if he can’t stop himself, he takes a loose strand of my hair. He rubs it between the pads of his fingers before gently tucking it behind my ear. “You like to be challenged.”
No, I like to be challenged by him . He brings out an adventurous side I didn’t realize I possessed. I thought moving to Spain with Theo was brave and exciting, but I felt more scared than anything.
This? Being here with Finn is thrilling.
“You’ll be with me the entire time?”
His eyes soften. “Every second.”
“So, I just have to walk down the stairs backward and then make a wish?”
“According to the legend, you’re meant to walk backward with your eyes shut?—”
“With my eyes shut !”
His lips twitch in amusement. “Come on, quit stalling.”
I begin to mutter about how this is the worst idea in the history of ideas until he wraps his hand around my waist, and I feel the warmth of his touch against my bare skin. I suck in a breath.
“Close your eyes.”
He pulls me closer as my eyes slowly shut. My heart begins to race in my chest when his hand slides to my back, and I’m suddenly lifted onto his feet.
I glance up at him through one slightly lifted eyelid. “I think this might count as cheating,” I manage to say, which is quite an extraordinary feat because being this close to him is making my brain go haywire.
“Yeah, but this way is much more fun.” He winks, then reaches down to grab my arm and slides it around his neck.
Oh yeah, this is way more fun.
“Have your wish?”
Does wanting more of this count? “Um, yep.”
The amusement in his voice is unmistakable. “Okay, hold on. I’ll use my other hand to grip the railing. Ready?”
I nod as I close my eyes once more, and my heart drops as he takes the first step. It’s awkward, and I can’t help but giggle at how we must look.
“Why are you laughing?”
“I’m just thinking about how ridiculous we must appear. Thank God there isn’t anyone else around.”
“Is this a bad time to tell you about the couple at the bottom of the stairs?”
My eyes snap open. “What?”
He chuckles. “Kidding. I’m kidding.” He stops, and I realize we’re about halfway. “Close your eyes again.”
“Jerk,” I mutter, which only makes him laugh harder. I close my eyes and ask, “How am I not crushing your feet?”
“Because my feet are…what’s that word you say, darlin’? Oh, right—massive. My feet are massive.”
I have a feeling, as I’m being pressed against him, that his feet are not the only massive part of him. “You’re ridiculous.”
“One more st—” His words are abruptly cut off as we tumble. My eyes fly open as his other arm snakes around me in a death grip, and suddenly, I’m against a stone wall.
“Sorry,” he breathes out. “Missed that last one.”
I start to open my mouth to say something witty in response but stop short when I realize how close we are. His body is practically plastered against mine, every decadent inch of it.
He seems to arrive at the same conclusion just as our eyes meet. My breath hitches. The arms around my waist loosen, and just when I think he’s going to let me go and step back, I feel his hand shift and slowly begin to trace the bare skin on my back.
His gaze drops to my mouth. My tongue darts out, and I drag it across my bottom lip. His eyes darken.
“Ash?”
“Yeah?” God, my voice is embarrassingly breathy right now—definitely not the sultry kind that makes men weak in the knees. No, I sound more like I’m about to pass out.
“Can I kiss you?”
Definitely gonna pass out. “Yes.”
One hand lifts to cup my cheek, and he tilts my head upward. He leans in, and I smell the clean, woodsy scent of his shampoo. His eyes are the palest green. They remind me of sea glass. He studies me like he’s memorizing everything about this moment.
Maybe I am, too, because the moment his lips touch mine, I know nothing will ever be the same.
This is the kind of kiss that alters you.
It starts off slow, as if we have all the time in the world. He brushes his lips against mine, and I feel it all the way down to my toes. His hand glides into my hair while he kisses a trail along my neck.
When he works his way up, he says, “I wish we didn’t have the farewell dinner tonight.” I can feel his heart racing in his chest—almost as fast as mine.
“Me either.”
A heavy silence hangs between us, and then I remember, “I don’t leave until Tuesday,” I tell him.
His head jerks up. “What?”
“My mom booked an extra day,” I say, suddenly feeling nervous. “We don’t leave until Tuesday morning. So, um…I mean, if you want—or if you don’t have any plans?” Oh my god. You were just kissing the guy. Spit it out, Ash.
“Are you asking me out, darlin’?” He smirks.
I shrug, trying to gain back an ounce of cool. “I mean, if you want?—”
His mouth closes over mine, and I let out something between a gasp and a whimper before it magically morphs into a groan because, holy hell, this man can kiss. He fists my hair, and suddenly, we are making out at the bottom of the Witch’s Steps like two horny teenagers. His hand slides to cup my ass, and then just when I’m starting to contemplate whether the act of public sex is something I’d go for, I feel a vibration.
“What the?—
“Shit, my watch,” he mumbles, reluctantly taking his hand off my butt to stop the ringing alarm. He sighs and gives me one last kiss. “We’ve got to go.” He glances back up the stairs. “If I give you a piggyback ride with your eyes closed, do you think your wish might come true?”
I give him a shy smile. “Oh, it definitely already did.”
“Yeah? Think you could grant me one of mine?”
My heartbeat quickens. “What’s that?”
“Your phone number.”