Feyland: The Bright Court

Chapter Fifteen

Tam stripped off the gaming gloves and ran his hands through his hair. A minute later, Jennet emerged from the game and removed her sim helmet. He studied her cheek, where a long red scratch marred the pale perfection of her skin.

“Don’t forget,” he said. “Disinfectant.”

“Right.” She got up and turned the jamming switch off. “HANA, let George know that Tam is about ready to go.”

“Of course, Miss Carter.”

She went to the wall and pushed a hidden button, revealing a cupboard where medical supplies were stored. It wasn’t the first time she and Tam had left Feyland with injuries. They’d found out the hard way that the damage they took in battle transferred out of the game.

He glanced toward Jennet’s hands. She’d nearly ruined them while saving his life. The only thing that made the knowledge bearable was the fact that he’d saved her first.

He couldn’t quite believe that today, the game had healed her hand. Had it carried over?

“How’s your right hand?” he asked.

She flexed it a few times, then held it up. Only a faint redness showed on her palm - in contrast to the dark burn that still marred her left hand.

“It feels good,” she said.

“Show your dad. Maybe that will convince him the game has real-world consequences.”

“I’ll try. But he’s good at explaining things away. I mean - magic? It’s hard to believe.” She swabbed her face with a disinfectant pad. “Ow - that stings.”

“Here.” Tam held out his hand. “I’ll spray the plas-skin on for you.”

She hesitated a second, then handed him the bottle. Was she that skittish at the idea of him touching her? Well, and he was just as bad - one minute wanting to kiss her, the next beating himself up for even thinking it. But at least he could help her with this.

He was close enough to smell her hair again - close enough that his faded T-shirt brushed the designer fabric of her blouse.

“Shut your eyes and hold still,” he said.

Her lashes fluttered closed, hiding her intelligent blue eyes. Her lips were so soft-looking. The pounding of his heart filled him up, until his whole body was a drum. Surely she could hear it. He put one hand under her chin, his thumb a little too close to her mouth. Moving it would just make it more obvious he was almost touching her lips. He tried to ignore the warm wash of her breath across his skin.

Puck’s teasing words echoed in his mind. Mortals are nothing but fools, denying themselves of sweetness. Take care that you do not wait too long, or the fruit will wither into bitterness. He knew exactly what the sprite had been talking about. But did he have the courage to follow through?

Forcing his other hand steady, he brought the bottle up to her face and sprayed a thin layer over her cut. The chemical odor of plas-skin masked the distracting scent of her.

She opened her eyes, and the look in them nearly stopped his breath.

“Tam,” she whispered.

Goosebumps chased across his whole body. She stared at him, then, slowly, closed her eyes again. Heart bumping crazily in his chest, Tam leaned forward.

This was it - the kiss that had haunted his sleeping, and waking, for weeks. The dream? memory? of  kissing Jennet had been one of the only things that kept him sane through the long, tedious hours of recovery in the hospital.