“There’s nothing wrong with renting a tent,” the clerk presses on, trying to sound upbeat. “Purchasing a tent and sleeping under the stars—especially during the Everend Market—seems quite fitting of our ancestors, don’t you think?”
I blow out a deep breath, the gust of air ruffling my hair out of my eyes as I sigh dramatically.
Raylen waves a polite farewell to the clerk and gently guides me over to a nearby table. I collapse into a seat, feeling a familiar, hollow sensation. It’s not the first time I’ve felt like all the strings holding me up have suddenly been cut. The moment sleep hits me tonight…wherever the hell that ends up being, I am going to pass the fuck out.
“Raylen! Sylar! Over here!”
Talia and Isolde are sprinting toward us, wide grins plastered across both their faces. Talia’s sharp eyes immediately bounce back and forth between Raylen and me, landing right on our joined hands.
“You two are here together,” she teases. I actively try to ignore the blatant, heavy implication dripping from her tone. “Did you get our room?”
I let out yet another deep sigh. “Nope. Looks like Mother is up to something.”
Talia glances over at Isolde, biting back a massive smile. I cock a suspicious brow at them. “What’s going on? What’s that look for?”
Isolde digs her elbow hard into Talia’s ribs, cutting my sister off before she can spill whatever she’s hiding. “It’s nothing! What do you mean you don’t have a room for the two of you?”
I launch into the frustrating story of how the inn is entirely overbooked. I expect Talia to share at least a fraction of my stress, but Isolde immediately jumps in with a suspiciously seamless solution.
“It shouldn’t be that big a deal,” Isolde says smoothly. “Why don’t you stay with me, Talia? I have my own tent on the other side of the market, and Sylar can just stay with Raylen in his cottage.”
My head whips over to Raylen, panic flaring in my chest. “You can’t just invite me over to your brother’s cottage,” I frown, my eyes locked on him, waiting for him to back me up and object.
Instead, he just rolls his eyes. “Really, Sy? What did Ijustget done telling you? I’m not going to let you wander off without a place to stay. I have plenty of room in my cottage.”
Well. If he has a spare room and I’m genuinely not a bother, I suppose it shouldn’t be a big deal, just like Isolde said.
Suddenly, the rumors flash through my mind. I remember all the broadsheets and trashy gossip rags calling Raylen a playboy. I try not to jump to conclusions, but surely one night of not having someone else in his bed should be fine, right? Shoving down a sudden, sharp swirl of jealousy, which honestly has absolutely no right to be there, I glance warily between my sister, Isolde, and Raylen.
As if he can read my thoughts right through my skull, Raylen wraps a slim, muscular arm over my shoulders and pulls me down toward him. It’s an incredibly awkward position; I have so much height on him that I practically have to bend myself in half to accommodate the embrace.
But then his lips graze sensually over the shell of my ear.
“Feel free to stay with me the whole time, Sy,” he whispers, the phantom touch of his warm breath sending a quick shudder down my spine. “I’d love your company.”
The words are undeniably suggestive, but when I pull back to get a good look at his face, he’s just giving me that comforting, steady stare. It’s a look that somehow eases all my tension and grounds me—all while simultaneously setting me on fire.
“Are you sure?” I ask quietly, my voice suddenly a little breathless. “I really don’t want to interrupt if you… plan on having other guests.”
Isolde cuts in, grinning like a cat that has just caught a canary. “Trust me, Sylar, he’s sure! You’ll be the only company he’ll want this entire trip.”
Everyone exchanges a loaded, meaningful look. I swallow hard, looking around the circle, desperately trying to decipher the silent conversation happening over my head.
What the hell am I getting myself into? And why does it feel like absolutely everyone knows the answer but me?
Chapter four
Raylen
Afteralongstringof back-and-forth, Isolde and I finally managed to convince Sylar to let me hire an attendant to bring his things to my rental cottage. Not that there’s much to move, but he fiercely resists any kind of fuss. Once the logistics are settled, Talia insists we all go explore the market together before grabbing a bite to eat. Now that Sylar is feeling better, I am entirely eager to enjoy his company.
I have to give credit where credit is due. When I contacted Isolde and Talia weeks ago to help me get Sylar to the market, I knew they’d come through, but this overbooked room situation is an absolute stroke of genius. It throws him right into my orbit. Everything is falling into place. I’ve spent the last two daysensuring my rental cottage is as warm, rustic, and comforting as possible. I just hope Sylar loves it as much as I think he will.
The moment we step out of The Three Cats Inn, the roar of the crowd greets us. I reach over, catching the edge of Sylar’s hood and gently tugging it low over his eyes to shield him from the sudden press of bodies. I pull my own hood into place right after. Ahead of us, our sisters skip forward to lead the way, Cinder flying next to them, completely oblivious to the quiet world we’ve just built under our cloaks.
Sylar and I follow in their wake. Every once in a while, as the crowd jostles us, our hands brush. It is an intoxicating mix, and I can feel the cooling enchantment of his summer cloak mingling with the natural, radiating warmth of his skin. The contrast makes it all the more tempting to just reach out and wrap my fingers around his.
We spend the next hour winding through the maze of stalls, chatting with merchants as we slowly shop. Little by little, Sylar begins opening up to me. He talks about his tutoring position, his voice softening as he describes several of his students. A wave of pride hits my chest when he leans in close, his breath warm against my ear as he whispers that Isolde is not only his favorite student but the smartest one he teaches.
