Any Way the Wind Blows (Simon Snow, #3)

by Rainbow Rowell

He spreads them wide, arching his back, and lifting his chin to stretch his neck. He looks . . . “Come to bed,” I whisper. He looks over at the bed, squinting. “I thought you were asleep.” “Not yet. Come to bed.” “Haven’t showered yet.” “It’s all right. It’s your bed.” He unbuttons his jeans, still squinting at me. His eyes aren’t as good as mine in the dark. “Are you sure?” I hold the sheet open for him. He pushes his jeans down and kicks them away, climbing into the bed beside me. I bring the sheet back up over him, and he scoots closer, shifting a bit to get his wings settled behind him. He’s warm, and he smells like a pub. Like cider and fish and a little like pizza. I slide an arm around his waist. “Did you make up with Bunce? Has she moved in?” He shrugs. He’s still shifting and wriggling closer. “I apologized like you said I should.” “And?” “And she said we don’t need magic to be friends.” “Wise girl.” Simon brings a knee up over my thigh. “She said she only has two and a half friends, and she can’t afford to lose any.” “Am I the half, or is Agatha?” “You’re both three-fourths.” “Fucking Bunce.” Simon touches my chin. “You smell good.” “Soap,” I say. “Where’d you go tonight?” “Hunting.” “Before that.” I shudder, and he moves even closer, nose to nose, bringing a wing around us. “Do you need a blanket?” he asks. “I’m fine,” I say. “Just stay close.” “Where’d you go, Baz?” “I realized I’d left something at Fiona’s . . .” “What?” I shake my head. “Can we talk about it ...