A complicated expression crossed Rowan’s face as he thought about Lily’s question. She found herself staring at him. As hard as his face was when he was angry, when his guard was down, it was incredibly expressive. She didn’t know what he was thinking, but she imagined that she could almost feel it.
“When I was seven, my father took me to the Citadel to be tested. When I was accepted, I was given citizenship. Then I was trained as a witch’s mechanic. As long as I’m a citizen, I don’t think I have the right to call myself an Outlander.”
Rowan tied off the tightly wound rope and put the bundle in his pack. “Okay. Swing your legs to the side, but don’t stand yet.” Lily did as he instructed. Her legs hung off the branch, unresponsive. She wiggled her toes and cringed as the pins and needles started.
“I may have tied you down a bit too tightly,” he said, a brow raised in apology. Rowan stood between her numb legs and started rubbing the blood back into them.
“Better than plummeting to my death,” she said, trying to ignore how good his hands felt. He certainly seemed to know how to massage thighs. Not that Lily had any firsthand experience with that sort of thing, but Rowan was definitely doing something right. Except that all the blood that was supposed to be going into her legs seemed to be rushing to her face. She felt like she needed to fill the silence somehow before she did something unforgivable, like sigh or, worse, moan.
“Well, it’s nice to officially meet you, Rowan Fall. I’m Lily Proctor. I was born in a hospital. When I was seven, I went to camp. Five minutes later, I went back home with a full body rash. It was fun.”
Rowan stopped massaging and looked up at her. “Your parents sent you to a work camp when you were seven?” he asked angrily.
“No, day camp,” Lily replied, smiling back. “It’s supposed to be, well, sort of like this.” She gestured to the woods around them. “Canoeing, hiking in the wilderness, climbing trees. Except we climbed down the trees and slept in beds at night. It’s recreational.”
“Ah. I see,” he said, still confused.
“What’s a work camp?” Lily asked, not sure she wanted to know the answer.
“It’s where the Covens send anyone who can’t find enough work on their own in one of the cities but don’t want to go Outland. They aren’t nice places.”
“But still better than being Outland with the Woven?”
Rowan shrugged in a noncommittal way and went back to rubbing her legs, his face clouded with troubled thoughts. His hands ran all the way up the inside of her thighs, and she jumped.
“Okay, I’m good. I can feel them again. Thanks.” She pushed his hands away and went to stand.
“Lily—” he began, moving to stop her. As soon as she tried to put her numb feet down on his branch her knees buckled.
Rowan grabbed a fist full of her jacket with one hand, and the branch next to them with the other as they both lost their balance and tipped back and forth, swaying dangerously. He regained his balance first and pulled her to him. When she finally got her feet under her, he caged her against the trunk.
“What’s the matter with you? You could have fallen!”
“I thought I could stand,” she countered. He looked down at her with narrowed eyes, their faces inches away from each other as he studied her.
“No, you didn’t. You just wanted me to stop touching you,” he said knowingly. Lily’s eyes darted away. “All you have to do is say stop. And I will.”
Rowan moved back, but he didn’t take his hand off her jacket. Lily busied herself with wiggling the blood back into her toes. He watched her, even though she didn’t look up at him.
“You’re embarrassed,” he said disbelievingly.
“Are we going to spend all day in the tree?” she returned, hoping to end the conversation.
“I’m not trying to seduce you,” he said seriously. “Believe me. You’d know if I was.”
“I know you weren’t,” she responded, ignoring the boastful half of his comment. And the small sting she felt. Did he have to make it so insultingly clear that he wasn’t interested in her? “But where I’m from people don’t put their hands all over each other, okay? We don’t get naked in front of each other, we don’t share boy-girl tents, and we don’t go massaging each other’s groins.”
“Okay,” he said, raising one shoulder in a half shrug.
“Okay,” Lily said back, not sure if she’d made her point—or simply made a fool of herself. With Rowan it was difficult to tell whether you’d won an argument or not.
Rowan tur
ned and started climbing down the tree. Lily thought for a moment that she heard him whisper the word “Puritan” as he picked his way down the branches. She was tempted to yell down at him, but she couldn’t really be sure that was what he’d said, and she didn’t want to seem touchy or defensive. The fact that she couldn’t even argue with him properly annoyed her.
“Are you coming or not?” he called up.
Lily turned toward a branch and began to climb down, muttering to herself the whole way.