Otherwise, I won’t be able to think straight, and Olah knows I need to think when I’m around him.
“Tell me what you were doing first. Then, I’ll free you.” Hector’s gaze lowers to my mouth, and the air between us crackles with tension.
Would I shock him if I yanked his mouth to mine? Probably.
You shouldn’t.
I sigh at that inner voice. It’s so tedious, but it’s always right.
Right or not, I still want to kiss Hector.
Instinctively, I shift closer to him, my skin prickling with anticipation, as if it can predict the pleasure of his touch before it happens.
A warrior shouts near us, calling out to a group of nearby soldiers, splintering the moment. I push away from Hector, and he drops his hands.
“I was looking for Everly,” I say in an unsteady voice.
Over the last few days, Hector has allowed me more freedom. He has even let me help Everly cook. The last thing I want is to lose the trust I have built with him.
Hector raises his brow. “Where is she?”
I nod at the wagon. “She’s with Cenric.”
“I see.” Hector tugs on my arm. “Let’s go."
Instead of my usual small tent, he leads me into a larger square-shaped one. As we step inside, I’m struck with how different it is from mine. It actually has furniture. There’s a washing stand, a bed, desk, table, and chairs.
“What is this?” I ask as Hector settles the flap in place and turns to me.
“I want you close to me.”
I rub my hands against my surcoat, smoothing the wrinkles. “You want me to sleep in here with you?”
“Isn’t that what people usually do at night?” He moves to sit at his desk and nods toward the bed. “You’ll sleep on the bed.”
“What about you?”
“I will not.” A frown tugs at his mouth as he flips through a thick black book on his desk.
My hem bounces around my legs as I shuffle my weight from foot to foot. “Why are you doing this?”
He looks up for half a beat. “Because neither one of us is sleeping well.”
“Oh.”
It’s true. It has been a while since I had a decent night of sleep.
My gaze shifts to the washing stand. I haven’t had a decent bath in a while either. “May I wash?”
He glances up from his desk. “You don’t have to ask permission to bathe, Sol.”
“Will you remove the rope?” I hold my hands out to him.
He stands and walks to me. In quick movements, he loosens the rope and removes it. A muscle ticks in his jaw as he turns my hands over, inspecting the lines marring my wrists.
“It doesn’t hurt that much.” The lie scalds my tongue. I’m not sure why I offer it.
“Sol…” That muscle jumps harder and faster in his jaw as he lightly traces his index finger over the line wrapped around my wrist.
