Page 27 of Buckle Up, Buttercup

Hadrian’s mouth is so close to mine, I could lean up and kiss him. And gods fuck me, I want to. Not as a thank you for saving my life just now. But because those purple lips are slightly parted, a darker purple tongue barely visible. I can’t stop staring at him, and he’s doing the same. For the first time ever, there’s clear and obvious desire in how he’s looking at me.

Is Lemon right about us?

But he doesn’t make a move, and the moment stretches long. I can’t be the first. It’ll be so damn awkward if I try to kiss him and he doesn’t want that.

Wriggling against him, I brush my long blue bangs away from my face. “Umm, I think I’m okay, if you want to put me down.”

Black lashes flutter against his high, masculine cheekbones. “Of course, sorry, I…I got lost there for a second thinking about you falling all the way down.” He frowns, black brows bunching together to form a concerned-looking vee. “You know I wouldn’t let that happen, right?”

I laugh as he flaps carefully toward the ground, alighting on the creaky wooden floorboards. He lowers me, sliding me down his body until my feet hit wood.

“Yeah, of course,” I say with a shrug. “But maybe I won’t get on any more ladders without you around. I wouldn’t have pegged the Bodice for a killer.”

I’m joking, but around us, the entire building quakes and shakes, emitting a series of angry-sounding squeals and clatters.

Hadrian’s eyes go wide. “Guess she doesn’t agree with you.”

At this point, I’m not sure I care. I’m beyond frustrated, and now she’s put me in a super awkward position where I don’t know what to say next. I tried calling Rebekah again for advice, but she must be traveling with her new grandbaby. That’s why she left town, anyhow, but it means getting ahold of her is hit or miss.

He rubs his chin, looking around at the building. “Do you suppose Pine Gulch’s penchant for running would-be Keepers out of town is rubbing off on her? Maybe she got the idea she can do the same thing? So, it’s not you, really, just the fact that it’s someone new?”

“I don’t know but I’ve got to prep for the game,” I say with a frown, desperate to move on to a topic where I know how to talk to him. Reaching up, I grab a space bun in each hand and close my eyes, focusing on “healing” my hair into another color.

Hadrian laughs when I remove my hands and glance at my long bangs—gold and black, as expected.

“It’s wild watching you do that,” he says with a smirk. “Can you do mine? Could you make my wings black and gold?”

“Shit,” I bark out, mouth dropping open. “I…don’t know? Maybe? I’ve never tried anything past my hair and freckles.”

He steps closer, grabbing my hand and shoving it on the leathery inside of his wing. “Try it; I wanna see.” Purple eyes glitter with hope.

Now I’m touching him again. Resisting the urge to trail my fingers up the strong, dark bones of his inner wing, I flatten my palm against the cool, leathery skin. I close my eyes and focus the same way I do with my hair, imagining the bones in gold and the wings in a purple so dark, they’re almost black. Hot magic combines with the chill of his skin, pulling goosebumps onto mine.

“Fuck me,” he breathes, “that’s incredible, Bluebell. You did it.”

I open one eye, and he’s right, his wing bones glow a faint burnished gold, and the leathery skin connecting them is an eggplant purple so dark, it’s almost black.

Waving my left hand in a circle, I take a bow. “You’re welcome. But maybe don’t tell everyone I’m open for business because I don’t need yet another venture to take up my time.”

His smile falls. “You’re busier than I would have imagined is possible for a person to be. You ever think about slowing down?”

No. Because if I slow down, I’ll probably crash out. It’s best for me to keep moving so I don’t think about how I never have time for myself at all. I’m okay like that. I really am. As long as I don’t stop.

Hadrian flares his wings wide, and they blot out all the light from the front window. “Looks good,” he murmurs. After a few moments admiring the changed colors, he glances back at me. “How long will it stay like this?”

I shrug. “Hard to say because I’ve never done anything quite on this level, but my hair usually fades after a day or two.”

My comm watch rings, and Sheriff Rygold’s name hovers above it. When I direct it to answer, our sheriff-masquerading-as-keeper is as brusque as ever.

“Bluebell? Someone called a human from the outside world. She’s arriving in a little bit. Gonna introduce her to what we really are at the game. Can you be there as a friendly human face in case the presence of monsters comes as a shock?”

I glance up at Hadrian, whose dark brows have risen high.

“Yeah, of course,” I say quickly. “Who called her?”

“One of the skyball players,” Bishop says roughly. “Been traveling to the outside world and met her there. Fell in love and asked me to summon her a while back, although she’s just now finding her way to us. I ain’t great at the Keeper magic, so it’s taken her longer than it should. Might oughta head back to Hearth Headquarters to get re-spelled. Shit, I’d rather us just find a damn Keeper. I’m gettin’ too old for this shit.”

It’s well known that our sheriff spends more time in his stone gargoyle form than not since it’s easier to heal like that. Old war wounds plague him, he says, although I’ve always thought it was an excuse not to think about his troubles. Some days I think, if I could turn myself to stone, I might do it to escape the world a little bit.