Page 186 of Dark Night of the Soul

“Okay, I think that’s enough of that for today,” I said.

I did my best to extricate myself from him by sliding down the ledge of the fountain.

He didn’t stop me. He watched with that slight curve to his mouth that meant he’d gotten exactly what he wanted.

Which was me completely off balance. Mission accomplished.

“You’re mean,” I whispered.

“You like it.”

I did. Damn him.

“Are you proud of yourself?” I asked.

“Yes.”

He shifted like it hurt. Hid it anyway. He stood. Exhaled hard through his nose. I started to reach for him. Automatic. Instinct.

“Don’t,” he said. “I want to walk.”

I opened my mouth to object but got the look that told me to keep my opinion to myself.

“One lap,” I said. “Around the fountain. That’s it.”

“Two.”

“This is not a negotiation,” I said.

In the morning light, I saw color had returned to his face. Some of it was strength. The rest was pure smug.

“Fine. One.”

“Slowly,” I added.

He sighed.

He started forward, slow and stubborn. The courtyard stones were cool under my bare feet. The air carried that winter edge now—sharp enough to keep me awake.

“The weather is changing,” I said. Because commenting on the weather seemed safe. Safer than acknowledging the way he flustered me. “We need a better wardrobe.”

He said nothing as he gave me a sideways glance.

“You know. Jackets. Scarves. Sweaters,” I elaborated.

“I do not wear sweaters.”

He sounded offended.

I nodded. He was so not an LL Bean cover model guy. More like the guy who beat up the cover model and stole his lunch money.

“Or scarves, I bet. I bet you like to be all tough guy and go no jacket, too.” When he didn’t answer, I continued. “I’ll get Ludwig to take me on a shopping spree—”

“No.”

There it was. Predictable.

A laugh threatened. We were halfway around the fountain now, one measured step at a time.