Page 315 of Sorrow & Strangers

Alice grimaces. “Which?”

“Aztlan Runes.” It’s one of the few classes I feel confident about at this moment. Though it is also one of my most advanced, so most of my catch-up work was for it.

Two hours later, I leave the exam hall feeling fairly confident about how it went. I turn on my phone, and it pings with notifications. I open the ­stranger’s messages first.

Unknown

How was your exam, princess?

Summer

It was fine. Some challenging questions, but not bad.

Unknown

Do you feel more relaxed now that it’s done? I know you were working hard for this one.

Summer

Maybe a little.

Unknown

Then come home and we can spend some time together.

I smile, and after checking that none of the notifications are important, I put my phone away and head home to the stranger. I am nervous to see him, but I’m not sure why. Maybe because it’s been a while since we’ve spent much time together, but the closer I get to the house, the more I realize that the nerves are actually excitement.

I go upstairs to my room, and my stomach flutters when I see him relaxing on my bed, reading the book he gave to me for Christmas. I pull my blazer off and drop it on the floor before climbing into bed next to him. He wraps an arm around me and turns the page, pulling me against his side, and I happily nuzzle into his neck.

“Happy Alice is back?” he asks, pressing a kiss to my temple before turning the page again.

I nod. “Very. Though she probably isn’t very happy to be back.”

“Why not?” he asks, running his fingers through my hair.

“I may have traumatized her.”

“How?” he asks, pulling back to look down at me, surprise lacing his tone.

My cheeks heat, and I change my mind about telling him. “Never mind,” I say, pressing my face against his chest.

“Tell me,” the stranger says, cupping my chin and tilting my head up.

“Alice and I were talking about you and me.”

“You and me?”

I nod. “We were talking about how I get when I’m not satisfied.” My cheeks feel like they are on fire.

“And?” he asks, brushing his thumb against the warm curve of my cheek.

“I was telling her that you and I haven’t had sex,” I say, looking away.

He bites my ear, growling softly, “I think there is more to this story.” I shiver, and he nuzzles my ear. “How was this traumatizing?”

“Well, I told her we didn’t have sex but occasionally did other things.”

“Right,” he says, and while I’m not looking at him, I hear the smirk in his voice. “Still waiting for the horrific part.”