slowly lifted his left hand in hers.
He will be learning about everything, watching you. Joy remembered Inq’s words as she cradled the back of his hand, feeling his eyes on her as she brushed the side of her cheek with his knuckles, feeling the whisper of his skin on hers. He slowly did the same, sliding the back of her fingers against his cheek, smiling back at her. Joy brought his hand to her lips, opened her mouth and breathed slowly into his palm. His fingers twitched. His breath caught in surprise. She glanced up at him through his fingertips, a slow smile on her lips.
He brought her hand gently to his mouth and copied her, breath for breath, exhaling slowly into the cup of her palm. She could feel the warmth pool there and run rivers down her back.
Joy shivered. Ink smiled.
Joy brought his hand closer, tilting it back. Watching him watching her as she touched her lips to the soft inside of his wrist. His whole arm flinched. The sensation skittered over his features. Hot pink fireflies danced in his eyes.
“Can you feel this?” she asked, the words tickling his skin.
“Yes,” he said. He bent his head forward and bent her wrist back. His lips touched the exact same place—the delicate, exposed skin of her wrist. Joy felt his breath hover there, warm and sweet.
“Can you?” he said. “Feel this?”
“Oh yes,” she murmured and slipped her lips along the edge of his palm. She felt him do likewise. Her breath hitched in her throat. She closed her eyes even though she knew Ink still stared, watching her with impish eyes, learning, hungry, eager for more.
She kissed his skin, her tongue barely touching the barest spot on his wrist. He tasted of water. He tasted like rain.
Joy thought she might melt when she felt him do the same.
Warmth slid down her arm and her elbow twitched, a rippling she felt along the edge of her limbs. Her fingers threaded between his, tightening, drawing him closer, moving his entire arm by the wrist. Sliding her bottom lip over the slick spot of her kiss, she felt Ink’s arm stretch, tighten, pull her closer, heard him shudder on the exhale. Joy scraped her bottom teeth over the dip in his palm.
He grabbed her fingers tightly, a groan slipping from his lips. She felt an answering sound somewhere deep in her throat. Joy rolled her head back as she felt his teeth graze her palm. A nip. A bite.
“Ow!”
Ink dropped her hand instantly. He looked worried, flushed.
“Are you hurt?” he asked.
Joy rubbed her wrist. “No,” she said with a chuckle. “You bit me.”
“And that was wrong.”
Joy tried not to laugh too hard. “It was...more than I expected.”
Ink cocked his head to one side. “You bit me first.”
He sat on the edge of her bed, and Joy sat next to him. He took her hand back tenderly and traced his thumb over the spot, soothing it with circular strokes. Joy felt the tensions—both good and bad—pass. Glancing at each other, they both started laughing, transforming two awkward, separate people into “us, together.”
“I am sorry,” he said.
“Don’t be,” she said. “I’m not.”
“I am learning.”
“You are learning.”
A dimple reappeared. “Some things are eagerly taught.”
Joy felt the heat of the blush on her cheeks. Was she supposed to feel wrong for wanting? For showing? Asking? Knowing? Well...she didn’t. So there.
Ink drew his thumb along the “7” in her palm. “I like what I have learned,” he said. “I like learning with you.”
Joy grinned. “I’ll bet.” She caught his fingers, giving his knuckles a quick kiss. His eyes crinkled in the corners. A second dimple appeared. Joy couldn’t help laughing as her heart skipped a beat. His moods were so honest and wondrous and new. He didn’t make her feel bad for feeling the same.
He rested their hands on his knee, a tangible tangle of Joy and Ink.
“I wanted to see you before I confront the Council,” he said. “I am requesting proof of the Edict and an investigation of the elemental blade. Graus Claude has arranged an audience using his ‘considerable pull,’ which I can only imagine means that he will be asking me for some sort of favor later on that will undoubtedly be steeped in mystery and intrigue as the Bailiwick has a finger in every pie.” Ink rubbed their joined hands against his knee, making his wallet chain jingle. He stared at their fingers. Joy squeezed. He squeezed back. “But I do not want to go. I do not want to leave you.”
“I know.”
“You are safe in your home. The wards...”
Joy smiled again. “I know.”
His eyes lifted, his voice, sincere. “I will be back soon.”
Joy nodded, unblinking. “I’m sure it will only take a moment.”
Ink smiled. “If that.”
He stood, the wallet chain slithering off his hip. Joy untangled her fingers and tugged the edge of his sleeve. She slid her palm over his chest and placed a kiss on his cheek that made him turn and look deeply into her eyes. He kissed her, not quite gently, not quite shyly, a moment that stretched and yielded under their lips. Their mouths lingered, his breath and hers mixed.
“Be well, Joy Malone,” he whispered.
His hand slipped into his back pocket and removed the razor, drawing it swiftly sideways and down. Slicing a hole in the universe, Ink peeled away a flap of nothing at all. He stepped back and disappeared, leaving the tingle of his words still sparking on her lips.
* * *
Antoine’s. Lunch shift.
Joy sniffed her sleeve as she folded napkins around flatware, thankful that Monica had promised to help wash the car that afternoon, something to keep her mind off Ink. Stef had agreed to help, too, on the condition that Joy help him lug Dad’s storage boxes out of his room and into the basement and they’d reward themselves with pizza and gelato all around. It promised to be quite the party once she could get out of here.
“Specials list will be up in five!” someone called from the back.
Joy hurried through her last five sets, knowing she needed enough time to write down the new menu items before they threw open the doors. She dropped the last napkin onto her pile and crowded next to the other servers, furiously scribbling the details of the salade Niçoise and the ingredients in the soup of the day. Food allergies were a server’s worst nightmare.
“Good morning,” Neil said over Joy’s shoulder.
“Good afternoon,” Joy said with a quick smile. “Dine here often?”
Neil laughed. “Listen, about yesterday...”
“No big.” Joy shrugged. “I have a boyfriend.”
“As well as a lovely Bic pen,” Neil said, smoothing away the ripples of an awkward conversation before it started. “Pens are so twentieth century, don’t you think? Observe.” He snapped a photo of the specials board and waggled his smartphone. “Come! Join us in the modern age—half the time at twice the price.”
“That’s brilliant!” Joy said and ran to her purse. Grabbing her phone, she swiped the screen only to feel a large hairline crack under her thumb. A triangular piece of the casing was missing. She could see the silver and green of microchips. “No...” she moaned. “No no no no!” She pressed buttons, tried resetting, nothing. The face stayed blank. It must have broken when she and Ink... Joy blushed at the memory of knocking everything off her bed stand. She remembered hearing something break...
“Argh,”