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“I answered your question. Now answer mine. What is the connection between you and that rogue?”
A mischievous smile spread across my face as I confidently admitted, “It was me who burned him.” I smiled as she paused, a look of annoyance on her face.
“I gathered that much! It’s hard not to connect the dots to that with you being the Summer Solstice Witch. Why did you burn him?”
I chuckled as I stepped closer to her again. “I told you, Tinkerbell. Answer for answer. It’s my turn to ask a question now.”
She bit the side of her cheek, the motion contorting her face into a sour frown. I smiled as she muttered to herself about me being arrogant and wishing to give me a swift kick in the ass.
“Fine,” she responded in a slightly annoyed tone. “What’s your next question?”
“Do you think that a person can change?” I asked simply.
She frowned as the clear thoughts danced behind her eyes. I could see her desire to deny that a person can change. She knew what I was getting at, and she didn’t want to tell me that it was a possibility. Yet, I could see as she thought about all those who she knew who had changed. Those who she couldn’t deny were changed over the course of time. Despite witnessing others go through changes, she couldn’t bring herself to accept that I might also be capable of change.
“Some people can change, yes. But not all people. Some people can put on a good show but are still the same person they have always been. Now my question. Why did you burn the rogue?”
I shrugged. “He attacked me, so I defended myself.”
“Why?”
“Uh, uh, uh, my turn.” I cut her off.
“Fine,” she growled through clenched teeth.
I smiled and stepped closer to her. Once more, I had her pinned with her back to the shelves behind her, our noses pressed together.
“Do you think that our rocky past could be the exact fuel we needed to have the best mateship ever known to exist?” I meant it as a joke, but I found myself truly meaning it. More surprisingly, I could see her contemplating it herself as her eyes moved to my lips.
“What’s your answer, Tinkerbell?” I asked.
Her eyes snapped back to mine; clarity evident in the narrowed blue orbs. “Go to hell, Brady.”
She shoved me back again.
I smiled back at her, undeterred. As the playful banter continued, I could feel the bond between us growing stronger, the heat of our connection intensifying. I took a step back to give her space, but in my eyes, I still held the challenge for her to answer my question.
“Go to hell, Brady,” she repeated, the fire in her gaze matching that sizzling heat I felt between us.
“You know, Tinkerbell,” I said with a sigh, “I would go, but the thought of being without you by my side makes it seem unbearably lonely. Besides, I doubt they would have any good libraries there.” I chuckled lightly.
Even though she rolled her eyes again, there was a slight curve of a smile on her lips. “You don’t get it, do you Brady? You can’t erase our history with a few charming words and some twisted game of twenty questions.”
I chuckled again, stepping closer to her as the friction between us crackled with energy. “Who said anything about erasing history? I’m simply stating that our paths had always been connected. Just maybe, we were both too young to understand it at the time. Far too young to know what to do with all that tension.”
She swallowed with an audible gulp, her breath coming in heavier as she felt the sparks between us. “As I said, you can’t charm your way out of our history. I don’t know what kind of girls you’ve known in your past, but I’m not that easily swayed.”
I raised my eyebrows and closed in the distance even more. “You’ve never said anything about me being charming, Tinkerbell?” My voice grew deeper, a husky undertone resonating with the desire that lay beneath.
Her eyes flickered to my lips again, her voice stuttering as she parted her lips. “I--”
Before she could finish whatever she meant to say, I closed the remaining distance between us and finally let go of the restraint I had been holding onto for weeks. Her captured lips parted for me as I cupped her cheeks between my hands. As her hands forcefully met my chest, it was evident that she was torn between her resistance and her undeniable longing for what she truly desired.
I took a step back, my heart racing and my breath coming in heavy gasps of desire. She mirrored my breath, her chest rising and falling in perfect rhythm as we stared at each other.
Her hand sliced through the air, and I winced as the slap connected with a resounding crack against my cheek. I remained still, not a muscle twitching, as the loud noise echoed around me.
“I guess I deserved that,” I laughed. “But by the Gods, I don’t regret it one bit.”
