hand. We’re going to have a thumb war.”
“Brea.” He frowned. “There’s no such thing as a war with thumbs.”
“Sure there is. I’ll show you.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
She laughed. “You won’t.”
“But it’s a war.”
“Shut your yap already and give me your hand.” When he didn’t, she reached out and grabbed his hand, locking it into the thumb war position. Scooting closer to him, she relaxed. “Okay, follow my lead. We count to eight, tapping our thumbs on opposite sides from each other. When we reach eight, try to pin my thumb.”
“Brea, I’m stronger than you. How do you think you can win such a game?”
She grinned. He had no idea. She’d spent many nights having thumb wars with Myles when neither of them could sleep and they couldn’t turn on the light in case his mom saw.
“Just go with it.” She tapped her thumb, showing him how to do it. “One, two, three, four, I declare a thumb war. Five, six, seven, eight, try to keep your thumbs straight.” She straightened her thumb, grappling with Griff’s before pinning it in two seconds flat.
Griff only stared at their still-interlocked hands. “That’s not how war works.”
“That’s why it’s a game, Griff, not a battle.”
“Can we try again?”
She nodded and started the count. This time, Griff lasted a bit longer before succumbing to her pin.
“Again,” he demanded.
“Oh my, I’ve created a monster.” She raised a brow.
Griff smirked. “You’d have to master your magic to create monsters.”
Her jaw fell open. “You can actually make a monster?”
“No.” He laughed. “I just wanted to see if you’d believe me.”
“I hate you so much.”
“No, you don’t.”
No, she didn’t. She pulled her hand away and scooted up beside Griff, tucking herself into his side. Since entering this different world, he’d kept her safe and helped her navigate her new reality. She’d never be able to repay that.
“Can I sleep in here?” she asked.
“That would cause quite a stir with the servants.”
“Honestly, Griff, I don’t really care.”
He wrapped his arm around her and kissed the side of her head. “A lot is going to change, Brea. I don’t know what’s going to happen now that you’ve been introduced to Gelsian society. Suitors will present themselves to the queen, no doubt.”
She coughed out a laugh. “Griff, there is zero chance I’m ready for marriage. I’m not even eighteen.” No matter who her aunt paraded in front of her, marriage was the last thing she wanted. She had enough to get used to.
Griff sighed. “I guess I’m just saying I want to enjoy having you here while I can. Just know… no matter what happens… I’m always here for you.”
That sounded suspiciously like a breakup speech, and they weren’t even officially courting or whatever people called it here. She didn’t know what she felt for Griff. All her emotions were tangled up in the safety he represented, the trust she had in him.
Was it more than that? Maybe. Or maybe not.
All she knew was she wanted to keep kissing him, to feel his arms around her and know she wasn’t alone. Because loneliness was the most dangerous thing in the world. It bred misplaced trust and a belief in things that weren’t what they seemed to be.
Brea groaned into the damp pillow beneath her face. Gross, she’d drooled in Griff’s bed. Sunlight streamed across the room in strips of warm light. Footsteps echoed off the stone floor coming closer and closer.
“There better be coffee on whatever tray you’re carrying.” She lifted her head with a scowl, deciding right then she was never drinking wine again.
Griff lowered the silver platter to the table beside the bed, a quizzical look on his face. “What is coffee?”
“You have got to be kidding me.” She pulled a pillow free and buried her head beneath it.
Griff plucked the pillow out of her grasp, an annoying grin on his face.
“Traitor.” She grimaced.
“I had breakfast brought up from the kitchens. Hotcakes—”
“Smothered in coffee?”
He ignored her. “Eggs—”
“Using coffee grounds instead of pepper?”
“And fried pork.”
“Fried in coffee grease.” She grinned this time.
“Okay.” Griff crossed his arms. “I thought I could guess what coffee is—some sort of drink—but now I’m not so sure.”
“I was joking about the grease thing, but seriously, how have the fae not discovered the life-giving beverage? You have magic, and they’re basically the same thing.”
“First of all—” He poured tea into two way-too-small white china cups and handed her one. “If there’s truly a beverage that gives life, we must take this knowledge to the queen.”
She