The Sleeper's Harp (The Arcane Artifacts, #1)

Chapter 17 - Lunch

I had my fists wrapped, taking my frustrations out on the punching bag in Bastian's gym, when he appeared. I paid him a sidelong glance as he approached. He got comfortable against the wall, leaning on it with a shoulder, crossing his arms. A smug smile pulled at the corner of his lips.

I lifted my eyebrows, barely an acknowledgement, then turned back to the bag, throwing my body into every punch. It helped. All the guilt I felt over Professor Miller's death, all the frustration over my choices, like letting Luke into my life, sacrificing my dreams, my trashed apartment, my dead neighbor, faded into the background. I didn't want to face any of it, but I couldn't run forever. Fear was a wound, and if I didn't face mine, eventually it would fester. Something told me the process had already started.

Luke was a sore, bleeding and infected. He'd burrowed so far into my life, that disappearing wasn't enough. I should have known better—

"You hungry, Sugar?" Bastian's voice pulled me from my thoughts. My movements slowed to a stop. I was panting, chest rising and falling in bursts. I blew a lock of pink hair out of my face.

Bastian's eyes darted over my sweat-slicked body, over the sports bra and stretchy, barely-there shorts. There was heavy heat in that gaze, words unspoken, pleasures left untested. My cheeks flushed. I shook my head, stepping away from the bag.

He glanced at it. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "You throw a mean punch. Something tells me there's a story there?" I shrugged. He huffed. "All right, then. Keep your secrets—for now. Up for a little sparring later?"

I opened my mouth, then frowned. That was not a good idea. Getting so close to him after last night...

"Come on, it'll be fun," he teased.

I scowled. Fun? Right. Assuming that by fun he meant, ending up on the floor with our clothes off, tangled up in each other, yeah, sure, fun. I didn't respond.

"I'll let you think about it. Meantime, I got sandwiches from the deli. Come and eat. We can talk." He nodded with his head towards the stairs. I swallowed, hesitating. "Here—" He stepped forward and took one of my hands before I could stop him, then began unwrapping my fists. I winced. "Sugar..." he scolded, eyes darting up to meet mine. "Is there a reason you got blood seeping into your wraps?"

I took a deep, slow inhale. "No..." I said at last. He lifted a brow.

"You know I can smell a lie," he warned. I snorted. "All right. I won't push. Come on." He led me up the stairs and into the kitchen, only dropping my hand when we got there. "Grab the bag there, and I'll get the rest."

I frowned, watching him move around past the island. He pulled a couple of bottled waters from the fridge, a bag of chips from the cabinet, napkins, and paper plates. Then he moved to the French doors, opened them, and walked outside. "You coming?" he asked over his shoulder.

I rushed to grab the bag of sandwiches and chased after him. He set up beneath the umbrella on the patio, overlooking the modern-style pool and hot tub. Trees shaded the perimeter of the backyard. It was late spring, warming up to summer. The weather was perfect.

"It's beautiful back here," I found myself saying.

"You like it?" he asked, eyes searching my face.

I nodded. "It's like a little slice of paradise."

"I had the pool put in after acquiring the property. Most goblins don't like water, but my mother..." He trailed off. "Anyway, got it from my fae side, I guess."

I swallowed, avoiding his gaze, taking a seat and shuffling things around before unwrapping my sub. I could see him out here, swimming, alone. The thought of him in a pair of swim trunks, water droplets dripping down his skin, over his tattoos, had my heart spiking.