21. Sage #2
Roger and Sage exchanged a passing glance at that.
Blooming friendship or not, there was nothing to change the fact that they both knew Wyndham in a deeply intimate way—Sage formerly and Roger forever more.
As badly as he did not want to think about it, there was a level of curiosity, of course.
But Sage found it difficult to imagine an appropriate time or manner in which to inquire about any of it.
What would he say? I know you’ve only ever been with one man, but isn’t he the most fabulous shag?
Never set your eyes on a more winning prick, have you? Neither have I. Does he still ? —
Suddenly, there was a scream. It came from the boat, which had only been paddled a short distance away from the dock.
The Ladies Fitzhugh were nearly cowering on their wooden-slat seats, Imogen evidently shielding Anthea’s eyes from something terrible.
Collectively, everyone else looked to see what had frightened them so.
Emrys had climbed onto a thick branch of a tree overhanging the water. Hands on his hips, he stood as steadily as he could on his precarious perch, smiling widely. Every stitch of clothing had been peeled from his body.
“Oh, good heavens,” Roger squeaked as he hid his face against his arm that was still holding the dock, but not before he went entirely red.
Emrys put one hand flat over his mouth and blew a kiss to Torquil before he bent his knees and pitched himself off the branch into the water below with a mighty splash.
Fern, who seemed to be the only one entertained by his antics, clapped loudly.
Cyril looked nearly as appalled as Roger, though he had not turned away.
“Ugh,” Sage groaned. “Do you never grow tired of him?”
“Never,” Torquil said affectionately. As Emrys broke the surface, Torquil gave him a wink, and his grin grew even wider.
Two new figures had appeared in the tree, also entirely free of their lake-soaked clothing.
Silas wasted no time making his jump, but the resulting movement of the branch sent Keelan’s arms flailing as he lost balance and practically fell into the water with a cry.
He came up laughing, if not a little breathless.
Silas collected him into his arms for a rescuing kiss.
“Harriet!” It was Cyril’s turn to scream as they all looked up to find her as naked as the others, hair long and wild with a most gleeful expression as she carefully stepped her way out onto the branch and jumped in. Cyril was paddling his way over to her before she hit the water.
“Roger,” Torquil said in a sing-song way a moment later. “Your turn.”
“I already know what he looks like,” Roger said miserably into the crook of his elbow. He was gripping the dock with both hands.
Torquil hummed appreciatively. “As do we all, now.” A smirk curved the corner of their lips. “I can certainly see the family resemblance.”
“Oh hush, you,” Roger grumbled, but when he lifted his face, he was fighting hard to hide his grin.
Wyndham looked exactly as Sage remembered.
He had always been slender, especially when he kept growing taller after the rest of the boys their age had stopped, but his fae blood kept him from ever looking anything less than willowy and irresistible.
His wavy hair was sleek and tucked behind the points of his ears.
Sage had just enough time to let his eyes linger in all the right places before, naturally, Wyndham made the most graceful dive into the water.
Emrys had stroked his way over to the dock in the meantime. After placing several scandalous kisses on the thigh Torquil still had dangling toward the water, he angled a pleading look up at them, a slight pout on his mouth.
“I might be half-fae,” Torquil began, cupping Emrys’ cheek, “but I am wholly certain that I will not take off my clothes no matter how much you beg.”
“But even Harriet?—”
“The answer is no,” Torquil said softly, leaning down far enough that they were able to press a kiss to Emrys’ lips.
“You will just have to use your imagination until tonight.” They tilted their head back theatrically, exposing the stretch of their throat as they splayed the leg bent up to their chest, wet fabric of their drawers keeping no secrets. “You can do that, can’t you?”
With an impatient groan, Emrys pounced up out of the water and wrapped both arms tight around Torquil, hauling them off the dock and into the lake with a yelp. They resurfaced in the middle of a deep kiss.
Sage grimaced and brought his focus back to the tree. There was still one member of the party who had yet to reappear. “Where is Conrad?”
Wyndham glanced over his shoulder as he glided through the water into Roger’s waiting arms. “He was right behind me,” he said, with only a hint of concern in his voice. Everyone’s focus narrowed on the branch the rest of them had jumped from, but it was empty. Then there was a gasp from Keelan.
“Look!” he said, pointing up.
Conrad had climbed twice as high as anyone else.
His stance on his chosen branch was sure and relaxed, as though he’d done this countless times before.
The entire party watched—even the Ladies Fitzhugh—as Conrad turned around to give everyone a perfect view of his broad shoulders and firm backside before he tucked in on himself and pushed off the branch, somersaulting backwards into the water below.
Anthea and Imogen clapped from their boat like they’d just watched a gymnast perform at one of the great theaters in London.
Harriet let out a whistle. When Sage was finally able to tear his attention away from where Conrad had landed, he felt the weight of eyes on him instantly.
Roger and Torquil were both gaping up at him from the water.
His face went warm and his magic swirled uneasily in his chest as he tried to think of how to respond.
In the end, all he could do was sigh defenselessly and say, “I know .”