intemperance
My boots came up to my knees, and my jacket went down to the ground, but the cold air still managed to get through, sending a chill down my spine. Not that I minded. As the evening dragged on, the dining hall had grown increasingly warm and stifling.
Just beyond the palace door, I breathed in deeply, relishing the icy taste of the air as it cooled my flushed cheeks. The combination of being free from the dinner, the minor promotion in job duties, and the buzz from the alcohol all seemed to hit me with the exhilarating headiness of the wind. The night suddenly felt so very alive.
“I’ll meet you at the garage at seven in the morning,” Kasper reminded me. He and Ridley had been standing just behind me, making small talk about the dinner, and now Kasper had begun to say his good-byes.
“I’ll be there,” I said with an easy grin.
Ridley waved at him as Kasper left, watching as he walked away—nearly jogging in his hurry to get to Tilda’s apartment. It was less than eight hours until he would have to be up, getting ready to depart for Storvatten, so I’m sure he wanted to make the most of their last evening together for a while.
“I’m surprised you’re in such a good mood,” Ridley said, turning his attention to me. He moved a few steps closer, filling in the gap that Kasper’s absence had left. “After that interesting evening we had.”
I laughed. “Yeah, but it’s over now.”
“It makes me glad we’re not royalty. I’d hate to sit through those all the time.”
“It’s getting late.” I exhaled deeply, letting my breath fog up the air. “I should be heading home and to bed, since I have a long day tomorrow.”
“Yeah, I suppose.” Ridley glanced up at the night sky, then back at me. “You be careful this time, all right?”
“I will,” I promised him.
Then, since there really wasn’t anything more to say, I gave him a small wave before turning to walk away. I’d only made it four steps before he stopped me.
“Bryn,” he said, and I looked back over my shoulder at him. “Let me walk you home.”
They were five simple words that sounded almost inconsequential, especially since Ridley had walked me home on several occasions. But somehow tonight they felt like so much more. There was a weight to them that had never been there before.
It was in Ridley’s tone, which held a hint of urgency, his voice low but strong enough to carry. In his eyes that burned so intensely, I could almost see the hunger hidden in the darkness.
Finally, I answered him, and I didn’t even know what I would say until the word came out of my mouth. “Okay.”
He looked relieved, and then he walked over to meet me. His steps matched mine easily. I wrapped my arms around myself to keep from shaking—if it was from nerves or the cold, I wasn’t sure—and he kept his hands in his pockets. The night was quiet, the streets were empty, and neither of us was saying anything.
It was a two-minute walk from the palace to the stables, and it had never felt so strange. My heart was racing, quickly pumping blood that felt too hot in my veins, and it caused a delirious heat to wash over me.
It was really the strangest feeling. Like teetering on the edge of a precipice. I knew something was going to happen. And the anticipation was killing me.
My apartment was a loft above the stables, and when we reached the staircase that ran alongside the building, I started to go up. But Ridley had stayed behind. I turned back to face him, standing at the bottom of the stairs and staring up at me with the same look he’d had outside of the palace.
“Aren’t you coming up?” I asked, and for one terrifying moment, I was certain he wouldn’t. And then he began to climb the stairs.
At the landing, I unlocked the door, acutely aware of Ridley’s body behind me. My hair had been pinned up in a loose updo, and I could feel his breath warming the back of my neck.
We went inside, pretending this was normal, that this was like every other time he’d been in my loft, but the air felt electrified. He commented on the dirty laundry overflowing my hamper, and I apologized for the cold while starting a fire in the woodburning stove.
I kicked off my boots and jacket then lit a few candles while he set aside his own jacket and shoes. Now we stood in the center of the room, a few feet of empty space between us, gawking at each other. The floorboards felt cold underneath my feet, and I kept staring at the few buttons of his shirt that had been left undone, showing off the smooth skin of his chest.
I opened my mouth, planning to ask him if he wanted to sit down or have a drink, but the words suddenly felt like a waste. I didn’t want to sit down or have a drink. I only wanted him.