He matched her steps without forcing it, hands stuffed into his pockets, sleeves pushed carelessly to his elbows. A breeze stirred his hair into his eyes; he shook it away, and maybe—he caught her glancing sideways.
Or maybe that was just hope playing tricks again.
The tension grew heavier.
He should kiss her. Hecould, now that he knew she didn’t entirely object. But in her current mood, she might deck him just to prove a point. He didn’t have Uriah’s daring.
Still, he looked.
Not lewdly, not quite—but with wonder. She was so beautiful. His gaze traced the shape of her cheek, the curve of her neck, the line of her collarbone. The sunlight caught in her hair, turned it gold where it brushed her chest. A fine sheen of sweat clung to her blouse, making the fabric hug her form more closely than modesty would like. His heart stuttered.
And then she blushed.
Color bloomed across her throat, rising up her face. Their eyes met, and for a moment—just a moment—everything between them stilled.
Then she asked, “Do you like teaching?”
The question startled him. “Uh—yeah. I do.”
She gave a half-smile, tilting her head. “It seems like it takes a lot of patience. I’m not sure I’d be any good with unruly children.”
Her hair slipped over her shoulder as she spoke, scattering across the rise of her chest. Collin dragged his thoughts back to the question, focusing hard.
“It definitely tests your patience,” he said, laughing softly. “But I enjoy it. I like when something finally clicks for a student. It’s... satisfying.”
“I’m looking forward to finishing school,” she said, a little more quietly now. “But I don’t know what comes next.”
Collin knew that school was hard for Dragonfly. When they were younger, the teasing was relentless—children jeering at her name, as if it were a joke to be unwrapped again and again. But as they grew older, the mockery darkened, shifting into whispered rumors about her family. Her mother’s supposed infidelity. Her sister’s affair with a married man.
In public, Collin had heard the names they threw at her—cruel, ugly words likeharlotandwhore, spat as casually as greetings. But what she endured in private, he could only imagine. And that imagining made his stomach turn.
Just the other day, Collin had overheard Ken boasting to his friends that Dragonfly had let him see her breasts. Another chimed in, claiming he’d touched them. Collin knew her too well to believe a word of it—but that didn’t mean those men hadn’t tried something.
He’d responded the only way his outrage knew how, with his fists.
It wasn’t the first time. He alwaysmeantto hold his temper, tired of scraping together money just to pay the fighting fines. But how could he stand idle while they dragged her name through the mud? How could he pretend not to hear when the filth reached this level?
A few weeks earlier, those same fellows had dared each other to catch a glimpse of the birthmark rumored to be on the inside of her thigh. A game, they called it. Collin saw it for what it was.
And if defending her meant bloodied knuckles and another fine—he’d pay it a hundred times over. There were worse prices than coin. Let them talk aboutthat.
“Whatever you end up doing,” Collin said, “I’m certain you’ll be great at it. And if you don’t like it, you can always change course. We’re not meant to stay stuck.”
Her eyes softened. The edge in her posture dissolved. She was looking at him now—not sharply, but dreamily, like she saw something in him that surprised her.
Without warning, she reached for his elbow and tugged him sideways. “Don’t step on those.”
A jolt shot through him, light and sparkling. For a moment, his thoughts scattered. “What?”
She pointed to a small patch of wildflowers blooming right in the center of the trail. Her hand still rested lightly on his arm as she guided him around them. When they passed, she let go.
He stopped walking. The road to North Town was just ahead. In a few dozen steps, she’d be gone—and he wasn’t ready for that.
His heart thudded, rising into his throat. He tried to will his thoughts steady.
“I wonder if you’d like to...” he began, then faltered, heat creeping up his neck. “If you might enjoy taking a stroll with me through the market. Tomorrow. Late?”
She flushed, her cheeks deepening from pink to red. Her lashes dipped low before she lifted her gaze again. “I can’t in the evening...”
