Page 58 of Dream On, Liar

She bit her lower lip, lifting her shoulder. “My father asked me. He doesn’t want a repeat of today.”

I considered it for a beat. No part of me was interested in repeating the small history with her any longer. Her actions had made sure of that. But if the moments before were anything to go by, there was a strange part of me that couldn’t quite handle being completely cold towards her either.

Maybe a truce wasn’t so bad.

She had said it was six weeks. Six weeks, and as long as she stayed on her side of the field, I could do this. “We can have a truce. On one condition.”

“Really?” Her expression morphed into surprise, before she asked. “What’s your condition?”

“You promise not to pull another stunt like this morning.”

Her beautiful features twisted into a scowl. “What stunt?”

“Disrupting my spell. That was humiliating, and between the two of us—I’ve had enough of that from you to last a lifetime.”

“Humiliating you this morning wasn’t my intention—”

“It wasn’t your intention only this morning?”

“Yeah, but I sure as hell don’t mind it, either.”

I glared. “Thanks for clarifying that.”

“My pleasure.” She replied, unmoved by my glare. “Okay. I promise to not disrupt your spell like I did this morning—if you promise not to go past your allowed volume, you work with me with your pain, do the rehab and rest.”

I held up one finger, stopping her. “No. Not like just this morning. Not at all.”

She reached for my hand without thinking, her own finger curling around the one I'd raised as she said it. “Yes. Fine.”

The contact lasted barely a second, and still it felt like a current had shot straight through me. Like she could feel the same spark, she released my finger almost instantly.

“Okay,” She shook her hand lightly. “Lie down.”

I obeyed her words, even though the urge to do the same was strong. Except, it wouldn’t have done me any good, because for the next twenty minutes, the warmth beneath my skin had little to do with the pain and everything to do with the lingering awareness of her touch.

She worked carefully around the affected muscle, easing the tension she'd found rather than forcing the joint through anything that might aggravate it.

I tried to focus on the treatment, on the steady pressure of her fingers and the ache gradually loosening beneath them, but no matter what, I just couldn’t.

Especially when every touch seemed to leave something behind.

Perhaps that was why I found it easier to concentrate on the fact that she'd been right.

Again.

Maeve

TO NO ONE’S SURPRISE, working with Rihaan became much smoother once we’d called a truce.

Sure, we still had our own set of issues to work through. Him withholding his pain until it became too much was one of them, but it was still better than fighting him every step of the way. Like I’d expected when I’d mulled over my father’s request. I wasn’t exactly sure what had changed his mind this quickly, but I wasn’t complaining. My father on the other hand was definitely not complaining. Said it was his favourite gift. The only thing—

“You’re doing it again.”

I blinked as Samyra’s voice drew back my attention to my phone that was currently propped against the coffee mug on the small desk in my room. Her face filled the screen, eyebrows pinched, clearly concerned. “What’s going on?”

“Just trying to figure out what exactly changed Rihaan’s mind,” I replied, shaking my head once more.

“And?” She raised a brow.