Page 61 of Madness Becomes Her

Perhaps I’m positively mad.

It takesa few moments to wake up and realize my surroundings. Finlo’s light snores are something I’m becoming accustomed to, and I open my eyes to find us tangled together.

He’s on his side, where we lay talking last night in the middle of the bed. My leg is tossed over his hip, my center hovering dangerously close to his length. That’s hard against it.

His arm tucks me tightly into his body heat, and for a moment, I fight the urge to close my eyes and go back to sleep.

A rap at the door shatters the illusion of that option altogether, and my jumping rouses Finlo.

He looks me over, running his hand over my hip, and a thrum in my core moves in time with my heart before the following knock sounds.

“Does someone know we’re here?” I whisper, not knowing why I do so.

Finlo grins. “Lewis.”

“But you said he went ahead and that…”

“Lewis moves through the portals. He gets places much faster than we can.” Slinking from beneath me, Fin makes his way to the door, adjusting his hardness behind the door as he opens it a crack and speaks to Lewis momentarily, the Hare shouting about being late, per usual, before Fin slams the door and grumbles under his breath.

“Why don’t we use the portals if they’re faster?”

Fear curls Finlo’s features as he bends over the bed, coming face to face with me. “Because I fear where they’ll take you if you enter them, Tiger Lily.”

I swallow over a lump.

He worries he might lose me again.

His hovering lips and heartfelt words leave me breathless on the bed as Finlo stalks over and begins to dress. “We have to get moving?—”

“We’re late,” I add for him, tossing my legs over the bed.

He smiles brightly at me. “Indeed. We are.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

THE WASTE OF FRIENDSHIP

The day bleeds into afternoon as we traverse another city, Sarlun, before finally getting to the Kingdom of Ozryn.

Everything is brightly decorated, crisply maintained, and magical. Lewis leads the way while checking the minutes ticking by on his watch, as if the White Queen might remove our heads for not abiding by the schedule he set forth.

The more the thought lingers, I want to grab Finlo’s hand. Instead, I tuck it into the pocket of my trousers to starve the itch. After Finlo’s heavy admission last night, he wanted to be more than just friends, so we talked about lighter topics, like what I’ve been up to since coming to Wonderland.

When I told him how I got here and what led to it, he didn’t seem to love what brought me near a portal, but he listened. In a way, it was healing.

Moving past everything that should hold me back feels good. Freeing.

I can’t deny there’s a very settled energy between us today, even if I could ring Lewis’s neck for showing up at the door with that stupid pocket watch, screaming that we were late to get Finlo moving.

I can’t deny I wanted more out of this morning than a rushed breakfast of cold oats and stale coffee before being thrust back onto the streets of Wonderland.

I keep reminding myself that things with Finlo Pennington differ from any man gone before him, and that they don’t need to be rushed.

Even if I want them to be.

Once we finally reach the palace, a daunting white building that seems to shimmer in the sun’s light with guards standing watch at the gates, I swallow and grab Finlo’s hand, forgetting all my reasons for stowing the same hand moments ago.

He squeezes my hand in silent comfort, giving me the barest of smiles.