Dark Summer (Book I, Witchling Series)

Chapter Thirteen

Summer awoke to the scents of burnt cinnamon and bacon. She rolled over, not recognizing where she was for a moment. The trauma of the previous night returned to her, and she sighed. The bedding smelled of him, and she lingered. She didn't know if Decker was going to send her packing or what. It might be the last time she was able to savor the personal connection to him.

She rose and dressed, packing up her things in case he no longer wanted her to stay the weekend.

She followed the scents of food downstairs, finding her way to the kitchen. Decker had made a mess of the kitchen in his quest to make the French toast and crispy bacon that sat on a plate on the counter. Surprised after the cold shoulder he gave her last night, Summer sat at the breakfast bar and watched him. He tried to juggle responding to a toaster, frying pan, and microwave.

When he dropped the somewhat burnt French toast on the floor with a curse, she laughed. He turned, startled.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey."

He seemed tense suddenly, and she felt badly for upsetting him. He returned to the stove.

"I ruined breakfast," he said. "I hope you like cereal."

"I do," she said.

"I can walk you to the shuttle stop after breakfast, if you want." The casualness in his tone sounded forced.

Summer was quiet for a moment before she worked up the nerve to reply. "I want you to help me with my magick."

Decker's movements froze.

"If you still want to help me," she added uncertainly. "You don't have to."

"I want to."

She didn't know how to take his hushed words.

"Milk's in the fridge," he said.

Summer crossed to it and pulled out a glass container of milk. She went to the breakfast table near the wall of windows and sat, waiting for him. He brought bowls, spoons and a couple boxes of cereal. She searched his face, disappointed that he didn't seem happy to see her. He played with his cereal before leaning back to look at her finally.

"Is that...all you want? My help with your magick?" he asked, features guarded.

She shook her head. Summer set down the spoon.

"I figured last night would scare you off," Decker said. He gazed at her intently.

"It did scare me," she admitted. "But I didn't change my mind. I feel the same I did the night of the dance. I know that is a part of you, and I accept that part of you, too."

Decker was silent. His eyes were stormy again.

"I want to be with you," she said.

"Even knowing the draw of the Darkness? That I might not be able to control it when I turn eighteen? I can't guarantee I can protect you from what I'll become."

"You don't have to," she said, smiling. "I won't let the Darkness take you away from me."

He appeared surprised. "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."

She flushed.

"But for some reason, I believe you," he finished. "So you don't want me to walk you to the shuttle after this?"

"No."

The slow smile that spread across his face was the happiest she'd seen from him.

"I don't deserve someone like you," he murmured. "I'm so not letting you go."