Darling - K. Ancrum Page 0,54

introduce you to Slightly and Curly and Nibs, and show off the art Curly had made in our space. Then we were going to go to the Mermaid’s Lagoon together, and Bella was going to dance for you. She’d been practicing for weeks … She’s an icon and I was so excited to show it to you.”

Peter looked genuinely sad, and it was hard for Wendy to focus on remembering how scared and upset the others had been only minutes ago, but she was trying. Peter was so very talented at this. She couldn’t even put her finger on exactly what he did to create these situations. It was some combination of forcing you to feel his body heat through proximity, projecting insecurity, and shifting the way he used his voice. No hard edges; instead, all vulnerability and open body language. Letting Wendy control how close they were, physically cowering like she was the thing he should be afraid of—not the other way around. And then there was his beauty. If Minsu and Fyodor were pretty, Peter Pan was radiant. He literally looked like an angel as the wind blew his curls around his face and the starlight made his clear skin gleam.

As if he could tell she was appraising him, Peter tucked his bottom lip under his straight white teeth and let his auburn lashes flutter down to his freckled cheeks. “All I wanted,” he said in a very small voice, “was to make sure you had a nice time. I didn’t know my brothers would freak out and drag you to our house. I couldn’t predict the police would be harassing my friends. And the Crocodile … and Detective Hook?” Peter shook his head. “You should never have had to see them at all. That’s not anything you should ever have to deal with. Those are my problems, not yours.”

Peter rubbed at one of his eyes and looked out toward the moon. “I’m not having the best night, either,” he said sadly.

As if he were a victim of these circumstances and not at all the source of them.

Then he dug around in his bag and pulled out some sort of stick. “I hope you don’t mind, but it’s a bit too dark for me to see,” he said sheepishly as he dug out a lighter and lit the tip of the stick.

Wendy flinched as it burst into light, throwing sparks in every direction. Peter held the sparkler in between them, the golden light illuminating the leftover dampness beneath his eyes and the soft blush on his cheeks.

“You don’t have to forgive me,” Peter said firmly.

Wendy thought about how Tinkerbelle had looked hours ago, right after they’d first met, when Peter had spoken harshly to her and she’d clammed up as if Peter had been about to hit her.

“You’re right,” Wendy lied. “No one could have predicted that. Don’t worry about it. We’re almost to the party, and from what Minsu and Fyodor were saying, it sounds like it’s going to be a great time.”

She let go of one of the chains and wrapped her hand around the sparkler. Peter let go of it, something in him relaxing at Wendy’s words. Wendy took the sparkler in her own hand and held it up high, so the sparks didn’t ignite their clothing.

“Thank you,” Peter said. “God, I’m so sorry about everything. Thank you for giving this another chance.” He slumped against the door and looked out toward the moon again. “I don’t want to unload on you or anything, but doing this is so hard.”

“Doing what?” Wendy asked.

“This. All of it. Looking after Curly, Nibs, and the rest. Making sure everyone is okay. I know they talk about me behind my back and that they think I’m mean and stuff, but somebody has to be in charge. Somebody has to make the hard choices and sacrifices even if it makes them the bad guy, you know? I never wanted to be a dad; I just wanted to have fun with my friends.” Peter looked absolutely crestfallen.

He covered his face again and sniffed. “And then James shows up like it’s no big deal, and—”

Peter was crying again.

It was incredible how he cried like he was starring in a film. His face didn’t get puffy, snot didn’t drip from his nose, and his voice didn’t get all squeaky. He just naturally wept, his eyelashes clumping in wet spikes with just enough tears to drip delicately down his chiseled cheeks and angled jaw.

“James