“Sure, ah…” She grinned at me, choosing not to believe my words.
“Ezra,” I said, offering my name. “Your elbows were all over the place. Engage your core if you want lifting to mean anything.”
She narrowed her eyes. “And your feedback’s free?”
The memory of her broken body under the coliseum cut through me. My hand brushed my own scarred neck. She hadn’t asked for her tether, just like I hadn’t asked for this jealousy. We both lived with consequences.
My bitterness twisted until it made me sick.
She stepped closer and pressed her palm to my stomach. Power throbbed against my skin. Despite everything, she offered kindness. “Are you okay?”
Kindness I didn't extend to her.
“I will be,” I said, straightening.
She removed her hand, not looking convinced.
I reached for something to say. I wasn’t good with people, but I trusted my lover. He wanted this unknown to be present in our lives in some capacity. Speculating about the future only led to pointless emotion, as I’d already demonstrated.
Quinn needed support, to make the right friends, to stay safe until my lover could swoop down and fit her into our world.
I still hadn’t said anything.
And your feedback’s free of charge?
Trust wasn’t one-sided. “You’ll spot my bench. I’ll train you.”
Her lips quirked. “I will, will I?”
The smallest smile tugged my mouth.
Her eyes lit. “I don’t know how to spot a bench.”
“I’ll show you.” I offered my hand in peace.
She nodded, gaze sweeping my chest again. This time, I flexed on purpose. Her blush deepened.
My pulse rose. I didn’t analyze it. I stepped forward and guided her arms into place, hands firm on her skin.
Her blush flared hotter. And my heart quickened with it.
Chapter 4
Quinn
“Quinn,honey,saysomething!”My dad’s voice sounded so far away.
I blinked a few times, wobbled, and then screamed as I wrapped my arms around the tree branch under me. I was high up in the oak tree outside my apartment building, with no memory of getting up here.
“Quinn, it’s OK. I’m right here,” my dad said from below me.
“Is she stuck in a tree?” Zack, one of my childhood bullies, asked him.
“No!” I yelled. “I can get down.”
I didn’t know if that was true, but I needed to get down. I didn’t want to give Zack more ammunition, and my dad needed to see me be strong. I needed to be strong. Dad said so over and over.
“How did she get up so high?” Zack asked, almost impressed.
