Keir leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. "Yeah, but he's never really been Summer either. I mean, the guy loves the snow."
"So do I."
"And you're half Winter. Plus, he's never had a problem with Winter users," Keir added. "Winter honestly fits him better. It'salmost like he finally had the chance to embrace that side of himself or something."
"Poppy Hawthorne has always hated the dichotomy between the seasons," I realized. "I just thought it was some eleventh-grade rebellion against her mother or something."
"Both could be true," Keir pointed out. "But are you actually ok with this? You have two loyal subjects now. You've basically given up your place in Winter. I mean, I'd think all of that is a little terrifying."
I let my eyes drop to the rug in my room and thought about it. Oddly, fear wasn't the emotion I'd call it. But the more I thought about it, the easier it was to let my lips curl again.
"Knowing Wilder is the heir? That feels like relief." I shrugged, wondering if he thought less of me for that. "The only way I can describe it to you is to compare it to being unqualified. I mean, imagine if someone put a crown on your head and made it clear the lives of millions hung on your every decision. Did you eat fruit today, or flowers? Either choice would result in someone dying. Then, to have that pressure just... gone?"
"Ok, yeah," he said. "That makes sense."
"But at the same time," I went on, "what Bran said?" Again, my lips flickered into this strange-feeling smile. "To be proud of our season? Towantto followme?" I shook my head, but that smile stayed. "That's like being told the girl of your dreams likes you back."
"Or guy?" he offered.
I felt like time stalled out. My heart even forgot to beat, but my head snapped up. Those eyes of his. Fuck, but they were easy to look at.
"I wouldn't know," I said, trying to dismiss his question and get back on track.
Instead, Keir pushed to his feet. "You still trying to say you don't date guys?" he asked, sauntering toward me.
"I..." Fuck, I couldn't think of what to say.
My brain was stuck on the way his shirt was so tight across his pecs. His blonde hair was in disarray, but in a way that worked for him. His forearms were bare, and thicker than I'd realized. It was like they were trying to balance out his muscular thighs.
He didn't stop until he braced one hand on the arm of my chair and leaned closer. "Finish the thought, Tor."
"I can't."
"Mm..." He leaned a little closer. "Well, I feel I should tell you Rain thinks I should kiss you again. Aspen says you wouldn't mind, but I'd have to make the first move." Then, using his other hand, he caught me under the chin and tilted my face up. "But before I can do that, you have to say yes."
"I don't - "
He shifted his thumb to press against my lips, cutting me off. "I don't care, Tor. You have a million reasons why this would be a bad idea. Fine. They're also bullshit. Know what I do care about? That you're a complete and total asshole - for the right reasons. That no matter what, even when I don't know why you're doing something, I never doubt that I should be on your side. I also care that I've learned I happen to have a thing for trouble, and I think that describes you perfectly."
I heard him. All those things hung in my mind, spiraling as I tried to think it through. My instincts told me to let him down easy, to make sure there was nothing he could use against me. My memories, on the other hand, kept spiraling back to the times he'd kissed me before.
I liked that he was so strong. Not just physically, but in all ways. I'd kissed him that first time simply because I was so sick of always shoving everyone down. I'd wanted someone to hold me up, and he'd been right there. Lately, he always was.
So I whispered, "Yes."
His hand shifted from my chin to the side of my neck. His mouth took mine, and I leaned in. The chair kept me from going further, but fuck it. I kissed him back. When his tongue demanded entrance, I let him in, grabbing a fistful of that tight shirt so he couldn't run away afterwards.
Then his knee landed on the cushion beside me. While his tongue tangled with mine, his hand moved from the arm of the chair to the back, and Keir leaned in. I felt the movement as he pinned me against the soft velvet upholstery. I knew his arms had me blocked.
I flinched.
Immediately, Keir pulled back. "Tor?"
"Ignore that," I grumbled.
"Not something I can do," he breathed, pushing back so he was no longer crawling into the chair with me. Then he knelt, right between my knees. "Just answer one question for me? Is it because you really aren't into guys, or something else?"
I looked over to the window. "Something else."
