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I give a small smile, hoping to encourage him to get to the point, and he chuckles. “Right, anyway, I suggested it before we got back, but I realised you probably forgot. I was thinking maybe you could fix it up. Like a project?”
“Roan, are you trying to take advantage of my fragile mental state for… free labour? Have youseenme?”
Roan sucks his teeth, dragging his eyes over me like a trail of fire, his grin turning sly. “I sure have, Theo, I sure have.”
Is he… flirting with me? Surely not. Before I can second guess myself, or his intentions, he drops the heated looks and stands again, spreading his big hands on the bar top, distracting me with the thick vein trailing across the back of the left one up to his wrist.
“There isn’t any construction type work. Well, there shouldn’t be much. It just needs a good clean out. Maybe some patching and painting. Change things up.” I stare at him, more than a little shocked but definitely intrigued. It’s not something I had ever really done before.
Growing up as the pampered child prodigy in one of the wealthiest and most influential families in the country—the world really—manual labour had never really been a necessity. Not that I’ve ever gone looking for it either.
“Gonna ask again because you seem to have confused me with someone else. Why me? Also, why would I agree to clean up your spare cottage? Don’t you have employees for that sort of thing?” His bark of laughter attracts the attention of a group of shifters down the bar, and he waves them off.
“Careful brat, your privilege is showing.” It’s a testament to how bad I have it for this guy.Bratisn’t exactlysweetheart,butmy stomach swoops just the same, even while I try to convince myself I hate it.
Large hands drop onto my shoulders, yanking me backward into a hard wall of man, cutting off my snarky reply. I do, however, let out a super manly squawk of surprise.
My eyes are squeezed shut in fear as strong arms wrap me in a tight bear hug, lifting me off the stool. It’s not until one of the big hands ruffles my hair, and I’m wondering what in the name of the Gods Roan is doing not interfering again, that I realise what’s going on.
“Theo, buddy! You’re downstairs! Good to see you, bro.” Seff’s deep voice rumbles in my ear as he deposits me back on my stool. Ignoring my glare, he throws his arm around my shoulder, tucking me under his armpit.
I wriggle a little, fighting just enough to appease the little demon beast inside me that is disgruntled by his oafishness, but then I settle in.
There is no fighting Seff and his affection; he needs it like he needs oxygen. Plus, I am notreallygoing to complain about rubbing up against a giant, sexy himbo, am I?
“I didn’t realise you were down here, or I’d have come in earlier.” Roan’s eyes are trained on Seff’s arm around me, but everyone is more than used to Roan's weird protective daddy act and have made the collective decision to ignore him.
“What am I? Chopped liver?” Seff waves off Roan’s feigned indignation with a genial laugh.
“You know I love you. What are we talking about?” Noticing my discarded half dinner, he picks at a piece of chicken and puts it in his mouth. “Damn, that’s good.” The man is a savage, honestly, but I still roll my eyes affectionately and bump my shoulder into his chest.
“Sure, help yourself to my dinner. Actually, Roan was trying to con me into doing his house renovations under some weird pretence of it being some new self-help program.”
“What the fuck, dude? He’s meant to be re-” My shoulder to his chest is a lot sharper this time. I tug his arm hard, pulling him to face me.
“Do not finish that sentence if you know what’s good for you.” Seff’s tanned, perfectly carved face splits into a million watt smile, and he ruffles my hair again, not at all helping my temper.
“Right. That. Sorry. Anyway.” He looks down at me, his golden amber eyes taking in my scrawny body under Seldon’s too big clothes. “Maybe a little hard work would be good for you.”
His charming smile takes the edge off his words, especially since I don’t think Seff has ever had a mean thought about anybody in his life. Roan, obviously sick of being ignored, clears his throat.
“And I’ll help, obviously. Once you get it cleaned up enough, you can even move in there.” He takes a beat, then continues, “That is, uh, until you’re ready to move on or whatever.” Over my head Seff shoots Roan another “what the fuck?” kind of look that he doesn’t intend me to see but I catch out the corner of my eye. Roan just shrugs helplessly.
Not for the first time, I miss my fae magic and myknowing.
Not necessarily my giftedknowing, but that intuition that drives every fae. Without it, I feel rudderless. Now, I’m always missing a piece of the conversation, and I don’t know how to make decisions for myself.
And this decision feels particularly heavy. I know I definitely don’t want to go back to Loqueaur and my life at the University.
But do I want to commit to staying here at the Black Stump—with Roan?
I could always make my way to Twin Heads. It would still be close to Tor and Caelan, but probably not close enough. And I’d be on my own.
Here at the Black Stump, I would have everyone, this group of weirdos that have somehow adopted me into their little family.
I would have Roan, an idea that thrills me as much as it irritates me. I look into the depths of his slate grey eyes, the lines around his eyes crinkling as he smiles gently.
Even without myknowing, the rational part of my brain points out that agreeing to help with the stupid house doesn't mean I have to stay forever. Even if it sounds… nice.
