Page 132 of In Violent Waves

“Yes,” she spat. “There is nothing wrong with what I like to read.”

He looked taken aback. “Of course, there isn’t. Why would you say that?”

“Because you’re being ridiculous,” she snapped.

“I am teasing you.”

“Exactly! You promised to be nice.”

Wilder laughed a full belly laugh and wiped at the tears that slipped over the rim of his eyes.

It infuriated her. How dare he? She moved to slap him, and he gripped her hand before reaching for her and cupping her face.

“Of course, I’m teasing you. That’s how we are with each other. This is our nice.”

It wiped the scowl right off his face. He could tease her, and she could give it right back without worrying about coming across as rude or abrasive.

Wilder understood her in a way few people did.

“Does it bother you when I tease you about your books?” He asked, trying to read her expression.

She nodded, and he tilted his head.

“We’re not allowed to read things like this where I’m from …”

Wilder’s head bobbed, and he heaved a sigh. “It makes sense you’re protective of it, then. It’s important to you, and you were worried it would be taken away.”

His words rang true even if she hadn’t realized that was why she felt so strongly about it.

“I will not take your books from you again, and I’m sorry I made you feel that way,” he murmured, tucking a strand of her auburn hair behind her ear.

She rested her head against his chest and relaxed into his embrace.

“Thank you. But you’re making it awfully difficult to hate you after our truce is over.”

Wilder smirked, but Lyra’s smile had fallen away. She knew what his lips felt like on hers and had enjoyed it. But Wilder had more experience than her in that regard and in others.

Which meant he very well might know the logistics of some other things.

“Do I need to apologize for something else?”

Lyra shook her head but toyed with the cover of the book in her lap. “No, it’s—never mind.”

He tilted his head, trying to figure out what she was so hesitant to tell him.

“Lyra, you can tell me. We are friends right now.”

“Friends who kiss?” Friends who had kissed. Friends who had held hands. How far did that title stretch before they entered dangerous territory?

He smirked at her, and it was so devilish she squirmed in her seat again.

“It’s just that I don’t understand the logistics ofit.” Lyra looked down at the book in her hand.

His eyes widened, and he pursed his lips. “The logistics of that scene I read aloud?”

Lyra squeezed her eyes shut, trying to staunch the embarrassment that bloomed high on her cheeks. “It’s just that, well, that isn’t something that my mermaid form would have allowed for and, um, okay,” she inhaled sharply, squaring her shoulders, “can you show me how it works?”

Wilder had leaned forward as she was speaking, and now he stared at her with darkened eyes.