I walk quietly through our still-slumbering house, breathing in the serene calm of it.

I barely even remember getting home last night. After my conversation with Ralph, everything became a blur of moonlight and streetlights, rain-wet pavement, the feeling of the cold dawn air when we stepped out of the car.

Home I remember a little better. It came with a rush of renewed relief. Our house really does feel like perfect refuge. To see it, touch it, breathe its air - that soothed the last of my fragged nerves.

I remember stumbling upstairs with Aiden, both of us raw and ragged and laughing with relief. Groaning with joy to be done with the long drive, with the high stress of the high-risk heist. I remember the two of us in the shower, Aiden leaning back against the green glass tiles, me leaning my body against his.

After that, my memories become more sensory. Sinking into the warmth and coziness of the blankets. Aiden standing beside the bed, looking down at me where I lay curled up in it. The gentleness of his huge hand when he reached down to stroke my face. The sight of his biceps rolling softly beneath his bronze skin, of sleek muscle pulling taut over his ribs when he stretched his arms over his head.

A strand of his soft chestnut hair falling onto my neck after he climbed into bed with me. The dark fringe of his closed eyelashes. His calm, tired expression in the slow-building dawn light.

Rainy wind drifting through the permanently open branch window. Stray droplets gusting to scatter lightly across my face. And then sleep.

Lots of sleep, as it turned out. I had texted Destinee on the drive home to see if she could take my shift today, since I had a feeling I’d be a wreck if I tried to go into the shop. And now I’m glad I did that, because I overslept my alarm until it turned itself off. It didn’t wake Aiden up, either.

The stress of the heist, combined with the body exhaustion of the two back-to-back long drives - we were knocked out. I don’t think that anything could have woken us up any sooner. Luna gave me a very disapproving look by the time I finally sat up in bed, like - excuse me, I’ve been yelling for hours. Where’s my food?

I threw on my shorts and rushed to lead the way downstairs before she could yowl and wake Aiden up. He was still asleep, his cheek against the pillow, the stubble on his jaw darkened from skipping a shave.

It feels early, even though I know it’s not. The sky shows no hint at the time, because it’s all grey from the stormy weather. It gives our house a sleepy feeling, which transmutes into a general coziness when I light the fireplace near the kitchen, letting some heat roll out through the rooms.

I go back upstairs and quietly push open the bedroom door. My eyes fall on the bed, and I stop where I am, staring, a slow smile turning up my lips.

There he is, the glowing sun at the center of my happiness.

He’s stretched out on his stomach, his long legs hanging off the edge of the bed a little. Tawny skin on white sheets, chestnut hair against rumpled pillows. Big broad shoulders rising and falling slowly with his deep breaths. Stubbled, bone-hard jaw perfectly relaxed. Soft, warm mouth barely closed, like his lips might part at any moment.

He stirs, sensing me close by. Hearing me, maybe. He opens his eyes, blue skies as far as the eye can see.

My cheeks begin to burn, and I blink as a burst of nervous butterflies explodes through my chest.

I can’t believe that I’m still getting these, and with this kind of frequency. It’s like we’re back in the summer days before that kiss beneath the Guardian Tree. The way Aiden’s breathtaking blue stare would send me to pieces inside, and all I could do was try my best not to let it show on my face. Or when he’d laughingly ruffle my hair, and I’d be left breathless, my throat suddenly dry, my pulse throbbing, my cheeks on fire.

Just like right now.

“Hi,” he says sleepily, rolling onto his back.

I allow myself a second to let my eyes linger on those two graceful divots of muscle at his hips before I cross to climb up onto the bed.

“I’m sorry.” I sit on my knees by his side, then push my damp hair out of my face. “Did I wake you up?”

“Don’t worry, it's a nice way to wake up.” Aiden sits up on an elbow, rubs his eyes, and opens them again. “What time-?”

He stops, his sentence left unfinished. He was only half awake, his consonants all softened up with sleep, but suddenly he’s staring up at me with very big eyes. Blinking hard as I drag a hand over his stubble. His dark eyelashes flutter, brushing against my palm as I lift it to sink my fingers into his chestnut hair. It’s darker in the rainy light, almost the color of coffee. I tip forward and bury my nose into it, glossy softness kissing my cheeks.

“Good morning,” I sigh happily, my voice muffled in Aiden’s hair. “Or - afternoon. Maybe. Potentially.”

Aiden huffs out a quiet laugh. “Is it?”

“Mmm. I don’t know. Hang on.” I let him go, turn around on my knees, and lean to reach for my phone, which I left on the night table. “I haven’t checked the time, I just have a feeling we slept in really late. Don’t you?”

No answer. I have my back to Aiden, but I don’t turn to check on him. I'm not worried. My Companion Plant is prone to unexpected silences. He likes me to fill them up. So I keep talking, which I’m always happy to do, anyways.

“It’s kind of hard to tell, with the rain.” I fall back onto the bed with my phone, but stay balanced up on my knees, so I can put it back when I’m done with it. “Oh, oops. Yeah, it’s - not morning. Unless you want to define morning, like, very creatively.”

Still no answer from Aiden. I scroll through my notifications, surprised to find none from Ralph or Calla.

“Do you think the others-?” I begin, then stop abruptly.

I didn’t grab a shirt when I got out of bed, which means I’m wearing only my soft, grey, wool knit shorts. I’ve noticed that Aiden likes these on me - especially when I haven’t bothered to put on boxers beneath, like right now - but I hadn’t thought about it when I put them on.

I remember now, as he slowly slides his hand up beneath the thin fabric of them, lightly smooths his thumb over my inner thigh. I feel the warmth of his hand everywhere, running all over my body like little burning flames.

I go very still, my cheeks suddenly glowing with heat, my breath picking up. This one, single touch from Aiden, and something within me is already panting, already begging for more.

Aiden’s warm hand very slowly travels down the inside of my thigh, then up the back of it. I’m holding my breath, clutching my phone so tight that it’s leaving prints in the pads of my fingers. All the small hairs on the back of my neck stand up as Aiden reaches around to drag his knuckles along the twin ridges of my hip bones, which are bare above my low-slung shorts.

His fingertips slip beneath the waistband, then stop. He spreads his hand against my lower stomach, right above the drawstring of my shorts.

I drop my head and look down at it. His huge, warm hand with its lightly calloused fingertips, flat against me, thumb slowly stroking me. His musclebound arm, softly dusted with fine hair, wrapped around me. Suddenly I’m close to actually panting, my cheeks cherry-red.

Aiden uses that hand to draw me back to him. He presses his nose against my lower back, his breath a rush of warmth against my skin. Then he slowly places a kiss into each of the dimples on either side of my spine. One, then the other.

Showers of sparks spill through my chest, and I can barely keep myself up on my knees. I sway a little, swallowing a gulp before it can escape my throat, then twist to look down at Aiden over my shoulder.

He’s still up on his elbow, but now he’s on his side, looking at me. Blue fire burning in his eyes.

A single bolt of Heliomancer lighting streaks its way up my body, licking against my skin before it crackles out of existence. I suppress a gasp, then drop back to sit down on the bed again, my cheeks on fire.

“Aiden,” I stammer, trying to catch my breath. “We don’t - have time-”

He gives me an innocent little smile. “Time for what?”

“Don’t you - you know!”

He does, and I do, too. If this keeps going, then in a few minutes Aiden’s going to have my shorts down around my thighs, and me pressed up against the wall, and -

“Maybe we do have time?” I murmur, more to myself than to him.

Aiden huffs out a warm laugh, then takes my wrists and pulls me up against him.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss against the side of my throat. “Can’t help myself. Just look at you, man.”

I bite my lip, my shattered thoughts trying valiantly to form themselves back into shape.

“Don’t - don’t be sorry,” I answer, and feel Aiden smile against my neck. “But we should probably, um - um - there was - somebody - are the - the-?”

Aiden draws back and lifts his head to grin at me, then laughs when I cringe and press my palms over my eyes. He rolls on top of me, crushing me down into the mattress, and my pulse skips again, my hands automatically flying up to his powerful shoulders. I stare up at him, breathing hard. My feet are flexing, heels digging into the mattress.

“S’okay,” Aiden murmurs, his lips close enough to mine to brush against them as he speaks. “Me, too.”

I can feel that, with our bodies pressed together like this. That sweet sensation is more than enough to break me, and I’m about to seize two handfuls of chestnut softness and wrench Aiden down to kiss me - but he sits up before I can.

I sit up, too, wondering if my inhaler is anywhere nearby.

“Good timing,” I tell Aiden, my voice a little rough around the edges. “One more second of that...”

Aiden laughs as he pulls on his boxers and jeans, then tosses his hair out of his face. His blue eyes are still two wildfires, looking at me with naked hunger. He leans down, grasps me by the back of my neck, and nuzzles his nose into mine.

“Later?” he rumbles.

The vibration of his deep voice rolls through me in a delicious wave, making my toes curl.

I swallow hard, then nod, once. “Mhm.”

Aiden smiles, ruffles my hair as he straightens up. Then he suddenly and impulsively bends over me again, takes my jaw in his hands, and tilts my face up to his. He sinks his mouth against mine in a deep, slow, breathstealing kiss, then gives my lip a sharp bite before he lets me go.

I fall back onto the bed and stare up at the ceiling. I need a minute. None of my muscles seem to be working, and my cheeks feel hot enough to melt.

Aiden pauses, looking down at me as I lay there. He reaches down, touches his thumb to the hem of my shorts.

“Will you put these back on, later?” He fixes me with a small smile, gives them a gentle tug. "Pretty please?"

“God, why didn’t I buy a thousand pairs of these?” I groan, pressing my fingers to my temples in extreme regret. “Or no, wait. I know why. Goddamnit - why is all the best stuff from the thrift store?”

“Not sure Agatha would agree.” Aiden crosses his arms, like he needs to pin his own hands in place. “Seemed like she found herself a lot of good stuff at that shop in the lobby.”

“Oh, Jesus.” I sit up in the bed, everything from last night crashing back into my brain. “The fucking heist!”

It all fled my mind the instant that Aiden opened his eyes and looked at me. But now I remember why we don’t have all afternoon to spend together in our bedroom. Although -

“Ralph and Calla haven’t texted me,” I tell Aiden, reaching for my abandoned phone. "Neither of them."

Aiden leans over, sees what time it is, and raises his dark eyebrows. “Did they oversleep as much as we did?”

“I doubt it? Ralph told me that he hasn’t been sleeping at all.”

Aiden blinks in surprise, tilts his head to the side. “Ralph told you that?”

“Oh, yeah - you were asleep.” I look up at Aiden, my text to Calla half-finished. “He and I were talking, on the drive home.”

Aiden stares down at me, incredulous.

“Jamie,” he says slowly, “Are you telling me that you actually got Ralph to open up to you? Even Ralph?”

“Um - kinda.” I shrug, then drop my gaze back down to my phone. “He was really tired, so that did half the work. But I think it’s okay that I used that time to talk to him, because - it’s something he wants. He’s just not good at it. I thought it might help him, if I just-”

I break off in surprise as Aiden puts a fingertip beneath my chin, tips my face up to his again, and pushes another slow, warm kiss against my mouth.

“I love you, Linden,” he murmurs.

I wrap my hands around his wrists, my heart fluttering wildly, and then he adds: “Even though you kissed like, three other guys yesterday-”

“What - not three! Kendrick didn’t want his!”

“I love you,” Aiden finishes, and punctuates it with a gentle kiss on the tip of my nose.

I sit there staring at him as he turns away to pull a henley out of the dresser.

Hopeless. Heart-eyed. Idiot, I think to myself, holding two tight fistfuls of the bedspread.

It’s a second or two before I can get out of bed to go find myself some boxers and jeans. My belt takes my fumbling fingers a few tries.

“Well, I don’t know why Ralph and Calla haven’t said anything.” Aiden pushes a hand through his chestnut hair, then settles a snapback down over it. “But I’m sure they’re coming over soon. We have to talk, right?”

“Yeah, we d-”

I break off, pausing halfway through pulling a flannel on over my t-shirt. My gaze just caught on something. 

The window I’m standing next to overlooks the front garden. From here I can see that the big, rounded green gate has just been pushed open.

Calla slips through it, followed by Ralph. They both stop, staring at the house with all of its mismatched windows, the wild, tangled overgrowth of the garden.

I stare down at them, caught by surprise. Both Ralph and Calla are showing all the signs of having just gotten some serious rest. Calla is clearly still waking up, a drowsy look on her face. Ralph’s blonde hair is tousled, his eyes blinking slowly and sleepily. The bruised circles of darkness that were around them before have lightened, almost to the point of disappearing.

He doesn’t look nearly as worn out and exhausted as he was before. In fact, he and Calla are both glowing like two people just roused from their first night of sleep on some perfect vacation.

Something is - different, between them. When Calla stops just inside the gate, Ralph automatically stops right behind her, and she doesn’t seem unhappy about that at all.

She breaks her gaze away from the house, looks up at Ralph over her shoulder, and says something. He breaks into a warm smile, looks down at Calla, then lets out a laugh as she turns away.

The two of them set off up the path towards our house. Not touching, but keeping close together.

I press my fingers to my mouth, realizing that both Ralph and Calla are instinctively sticking to the parts of the stone pathway that are shaded by tree boughs. Avoiding the pools of sunlight escaping through the rainclouds, walking together through the patches of deep indigo instead.

I laugh quietly to myself. Then I head for the stairs, so I can meet the two shadow dwellers at the door.