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“Are you tired?”
“Sort of. I think I’m, like, emotionally drained or something.”
He opens the door. “How about you go lie down? I’ll get you something to eat, and then you can take a nap.”
I nod, trudge back into the bedroom, and flop down on the bed.
Instead of exiting out the bedroom door, Legend jumps out the window, leaving me in the room with Rune, who does nothing but stare out the window.
After the silence becomes too maddening, I finally say, “So, rumor on the street is that you and I used to know each other.”
His gaze skates to me. “We did.”
I kneel up on the bed. “Was I annoying?”
He chuckles softly. “Sometimes you were. We all were, though. Especially Shade.”
I giggle, the sound music to my ears. I’m glad after everything that I can still laugh.
“You know what, I have an easy time believing that.”
A breeze gusts in through the open window as he sinks down onto the windowsill. “I never was, though.” He smiles cockily.
“I’m sure you weren’t.” I stretch out on my front and prop my chin against my hand. “Everyone keeps saying I was a good fighter. Did you ever fight me?”
“I did. And you were an excellent fighter. I’m sure those fighter instincts are still living inside you, waiting to be unleashed. All you need is some training.”
“Jules said you’re all going to train me.”
“I am.”
I smile, again surprising myself. “Are you any good?” I tease.
He shakes his head with mild amusement. “Shade was right; you are a troublemaker.”
“So is Shade,” I quip. “What’s your story? You seem to be a wolf of few words.”
“That’s because I don’t have much to say, in general or about my dull life.”
“Dull? I highly doubt that. You’re a guard for a werewolf prince. That has to have some excitement.”
“Not that much. Jules is a pretty self-sufficient prince.”
“What about girlfriends? Have you had any of those?”
He shakes his head. “Nope.”
“Okay … What about a friend with benefits?”Why, oh why, do I open my mouth sometimes?
His face contorts. “What the hell is that?”
Wow, I really dug myself a hole with that one, didn’t I?
“Um …”Do not blush, Lake. Don’t you dare.“It’s a friend you sometimes … do the funky with.”
He adjusts the strap of his waist holster. “Funky?”
Dammit, the translation is complicating this conversation. Or maybe I am.
