Fragile Eternity (Wicked Lovely 3)

When she got out of the car, he was already at her door.

“This is it, the orchard where…” She wasn’t sure she wanted to finish that sentence.

Keenan didn’t hesitate to say the words, to put the weight of it out there in front of her. “I brought one other person here, but”—he took her hands in his—“you’re the only one who’s ever come knowing what it means to me. I thought we could have breakfast here.”

“Can we walk first? So I can see it.” She felt shy. It wasn’t a casual thing he was offering her—not that anything between them had ever been casual. This was his private space, though; bringing her here was a gift.

He let go of her hands and got a cooler out of the car. After taking her hand again, he led her across the uneven lot. The crunch of gravel under her feet seemed loud in the empty air between them.

At the edge of the lot was a patch of grass. A dark-haired girl wearing sunglasses sat on a chair behind a table covered in baskets. An old cash register sat on the table. She looked at Keenan suspiciously. “You’re not usually back so soon.”

“My friend needed to come somewhere special,” he said.

The girl rolled her eyes, but she motioned at the baskets. “Go on.”

Keenan gave her a blinding smile, but her dismissive look didn’t alter. Aislinn found herself liking the girl for her instinctive mistrust. A pretty face didn’t mean someone was harmless, and Keenan, for all his kindnesses, could be ruthless.

Aislinn let go of Keenan’s hand and took a basket from the table.

“Come on.” He led her under fruit-heavy branches, away from the world. All I need is a red cape. She felt childhood panics rise up for a moment: venturing into the woods where faeries lurked was never safe. Grams had taught her that. Little Red had found danger because she went away from the safety of steel. He’s my friend. Aislinn pushed aside her twinge of mistrust and looked at the apples hanging overhead.

Casually, as if it wasn’t unusual, she took his hand again.

He said nothing. Neither did she. They walked h

and in hand, wandering among trees he’d nurtured even when Winter held dominion over the earth.

Finally, they stopped in a small clearing. He set the cooler down and released her hand. “Here.”

“Okay.” She sat in the grass under a tree and looked at him.

He sat beside her, near enough that it felt unnatural not to touch him. She shivered even though it was warm. The loss of his hand meant that the warmth that had been zinging between them had receded.

“This was my haven for years when I needed a place that was just mine.” He looked lost then; clouds flickered in his eyes. “I remember when they were saplings. The mortals were so determined to make them thrive.”

“So you helped.”

He nodded. “Sometimes, things just need a little attention and time to grow.” When she didn’t reply, he added, “I was thinking last night. About things. About what you said before…when I kissed you.”

She tensed.

“You said you wanted complete honesty. If we’re to be true friends, that’s what we must do.” He ran his fingers through the grass between them. Tiny wild violets sprouted. “So here we are. Ask me anything.”

“Anything?” She plucked at the grass beside her, enjoying the strength of it. The soil was healthy; the plants were strong. She could feel the web of tree roots under them. She thought about it, what he was offering. There weren’t many things she could think to ask, except…“Tell me about Moira. You and Grams are the only ones I can ask.”

“She was beautiful, and she didn’t like me. Many of the others…Almost all of them”—he grinned—“with a few exceptions, were pliable. They were eager to fall in love. She wasn’t.” He shrugged. “I cared for each of them. I still do.”

“But?”

“I had to become what they wanted to help them love me. Sometimes that meant adopting the fashion of the day, their newest dances, poets, origami…finding out what they liked and learning about it.”

“Why not be yourself?”

“Sometimes I tried. With Don—” He stopped himself. “She was different, but we were talking about your mother. Moira was clever. I know now that she knew what I was, but at the time I didn’t.”

“Did you…I mean…I know you seduced…I mean, it’s…” She blushed brighter than the apples above them. Asking her friend, her king, her maybe-something-more if he’d slept with her mother was weird by any standard.

“No. I never slept with any of the Summer Girls when they were mortal.” He looked away, obviously as uncomfortable with the topic as she was. “I’ve never slept with a mortal. I kissed some of them—but not her, not Moira. She treated me with contempt almost from the beginning. No amount of charm, no gift, no words, nothing I tried worked.”