But Hunter just opened his arms. A simple, beautiful gesture that came naturally to him but which, up until very recently, had been out of the question for me.
For so long, I’d been unable to receive or offer affection. I’d learned to throw money at things. Useful sometimes, but not the same comfort as a shoulder to lean on.
Serenity crossed the room in a flash and melted into Hunter, hiding her silent tears against his shirt while he pressed his cheek to her hair.
No one said anything. No one needed to. We just flocked to Hunter’s side and reached for her in quiet solidarity. I kept a safe distance from the others’ skin by cupping the hand she’d rested on Hunter’s back, and she intertwined our fingers.
Soon, she sniffed and raised her head, wiping her cheek dry. “Thank you,” she murmured. “All of you.” Her gaze drifted over us four, standing close, and a smile broke across her face. “Sorry for being a party pooper.”
We all rushed to make sounds of assurance to the contrary, but she waved us off and headed back toward her spot by the wall. “No, no, come on. Back to your places. I want to play.”
Once we’d posted back up, and Serenity had chidingly told Dagger to get his butt back in line with the arm of the couch, the air had lightened, but Serenity still had shiny lines on her face.
She took a big breath. “I’m low on ideas. Hunter, can you ask Bryce his question?”
“Okay.” Hunter looked back at me, contemplative. “You mind something a little more serious?”
“No. Shoot.”
“What’s your biggest fear?”
The answer surfaced instantly, but I clamped down on my tongue, gaze flicking to Serenity. I’d already touched her way more than I had that other poor girl. What if…
Fuck it. She had a right to know, so she could weigh the risk for herself.
“That my condition is contractible. Like an STD.”
“True,” Dagger said with a note of disbelief.
Hunter’s head reeled back. “To other elementals, you mean?”
“No,” I said, trying to gauge Serenity’s reaction, but her face betrayed little. “To anyone.”
“What?” Hunter asked. “How would that even work?”
“I’m not sure, but there was an incident, several years ago, that made me wonder.” I downed the last of my drink. “I was walking to lunch with a colleague. Her high heel caught in a grate—snapped it off—and she fell into me. On me, really. Knocked me to the ground. We were so tangled and so incapacitated by the pain that it took longer than usual for my bodyguard to separate us. I didn’t have a full-blown security detail back then.”
Lines of concern branched across Serenity’s face, head tilting in empathy.
“She stayed in the hospital almost two days, but with the prolonged contact, I wasn’t surprised. But then three days after her discharge, she called into the office because she’d been admitted again with the same symptoms. She said at first she’d had a low-grade fever off and on, then all of a sudden”—I snapped my fingers—“the pain hit her while she was out for a walk. Like it never really left her, and she had a flare up.”
Serenity’s face hadn’t changed. No alarm, just empathy for a pain long past. It gave me the courage to continue.
“It never happened again, but I’ve worried—especially now, Serenity, that I can touch you as much as we’d both like—that I’ll infect someone with my curse. That it’s transferable.”
Her hands went over her heart. “You’ve never hurt me, Bry. I’m not worried.”
My body seemed to float, the happy tingles running along my limbs making me buoyant.
“That woman couldn’t touch you at all,” she went on gently. “It’s not the same.” Her smile banished all doubt. “Now, take your step.”
I did a big, hopping step, pinwheeling my arms to stay uprightwhen I landed. I’d never reach her before Dagger at this point, but I wanted to hear her laugh. I got my wish.
“Seb,” she said, bubbly again, “time to catch up, Superman.”
“Wait, he gets to be Superman?” Dagger cried in mock offense, tossing a thumb toward Seb.
“He looks like Clark Kent,” Serenity explained with a shrug. “Don’t you think?”
