“Go on. I’ve been told the Unseelie are not kind, so why would you bring this to my window unless you’re looking for something?”
“It is true. I am looking for something.”
His quiet confession douses the fire in my chest. “You…you are?”
A nod. “I would like your forgiveness.”
Right. Of course. That makes the most sense. What else could he possibly want from me?
“There is no excuse for the disrespect I showed you,” he goes on. “I am ashamed to have spoken such horrible things aloud. I do not expect you to forgive me, but I need you to know that I did not mean a word of it. You are…different from the others.”
As far as sincere apologies go, that was a pretty good one. I suppose I can give him one more chance, depending on how he answers my next question. “How am I different?”
His gaze locks with mine, unwavering in their intensity. “You intrigue me.”
Definitely not the response I was expecting. Apparently, the butterflies in my stomach approve.
Is it possible that Everett feels the same pull toward me that I feel toward him? There’s only one way to find out. “Would you like to come in?”
His eyes widen, and if I didn’t know better, I would say he looks terrified. “You can’t very well stay out there; you’re liable to fall straight through the thatch.” How would I explain a giant hole in the roof to my aunt and uncle?
This really is the most practical solution.
Everett’s long fingers wrap around the window frame, and he pulls the glass wide enough for him to duck through. The space that had felt so large only a moment ago suddenly feels too tight. He hunches so that he doesn’t knock himself out on the wooden beams overhead.
He turns in a slow circle, seeming to take everything in, from the plants on the wall to the wardrobe stuffed with all the dresses from Madame Ella.
Facing me once more, he slides his hands down his thighs before folding his arms behind him like he did at the well. “I waited for you at the bridge, but you did not come back.”
“Because you were rude to me.”
“I was. I let my frustration speak words my heart did not mean.”
Such a simple, beautiful confession.
It’s a good thing he’s not Seelie; otherwise, I would be quite taken with him.
The floorboards creak as he shifts his weight. “In truth, I find your presence distressing.”
That wipes the smile from my face, but he’s too busy focusing on the floorboards between us to notice. If my presence causes him stress, then why is he here?
Quietly, he adds, “When I look at your face, my mind gets lost.”
That might be the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me.
“You smell like honeysuckle. I find the scent overwhelming.”
Well, that’s embarrassing. I guess I’m so used to the smell of my shampoo that I don’t even notice it anymore. “I can open the window to let in some fresh air?—”
His brow furrows. “Why would you do that?”
“Because you called my ‘scent’ overwhelming.”
“You misunderstand. I like filling my lungs with you.”
That probably wasn’t meant to be erotic, but heavens, it makes my knees go weak. I sink onto the edge of my bed to keep from collapsing in a heap of hormones.
His head tilts as he watches me. “Your face is pink.”