Page 7

“Say it, Tink.”

Maybe, she thought. With the way he teased her, grazing his mouth over hers and dragging sparks in his wake—maybe he could feel it.

“Fine,” she conceded.

“Fine what?”

“I’ll wake you.”

She caught the slight curve of his lips—the barest hint of a victorious smirk.

“Just shut up and kiss me, jackass.”

Skye threaded his fingers through her hair, the motion slow and deliberate. Everything else fell away.

The storm. The cold.

All of it faded until there was nothing but him—the warmth of his body, the heat in his gaze, the feeling of his fingers tightening as she let her eyes flutter closed—

“Are the two of you really at it again?!”Kato’s voice echoed up.

Skye growled as Taly sighed, the moment ruined.

“Some of us are dying. And by some of us, I mean me.”

Kato’s tone was so drenched in melodrama that Taly pinched the bridge of her nose. “Not it,” she muttered.

“I took care of him last night,” Skye pointed out.

“And I checked on him the two times before that. You know, when he swore he was being‘devoured by despair.’It’s your turn.”

Skye still didn’t look convinced.

“We can check the log.” Taly dug out a worn notebook from beneath her bedroll, flipping it open with a flourish. She skimmed, then grinned, holding it up to show him. “Told you. Your turn.”

Skye sighed, taking the notebook and glaring over the rim. “You just love being right, don’t you?”

“It’s one of my greatest joys,” she said sweetly. “Now go deal with him before his whining gets worse.”

But Skye fell back on his bedroll, flipping the page instead. “First Night Checklist.”

Oh no…Taly’s stomach twisted with horror.

She snatched at the notebook, but he held it out of reach, still reading.

“A shower, a bed that doesn’t smell like damp hay, candles, wine,lots of wine…”

She lunged for the notebook, but his arms were longer. “Taly, I never knew you were so romantic.”

“Skye, I swear, give it back or—”

“Or what?” He smirked, dodging her next grab.

She followed, undeterred, reaching—climbing over him without thought, chasing his retreat. Her knee slid up beside his hip. One hand braced against the bedroll, the other stretching past him—

Then his breath hitched. His hand settled at her waist, not pushing, not pulling. Justholding.

“Careful, Tink,” Skye said, his voice lower now, rough-edged with something darker. “Unless you’re offering, you might want to watch where you put those.”