Daylight

Chapter 22

Lucien's heart was still hammering against his rib cage and he wasn't entirely sure he was still breathing. After going back inside—leaving Elain to have a few minutes alone in her little garden—Lucien had waited for Nesta to deliver her killing blow, but surprisingly, she never did more than glare at him. He couldn't believe she would pass up an opportunity to yell at him. Something must have put her in a better-than-normal mood this morning. Though come to think of it, he hadn't seen Nesta downstairs with the rest of them when he'd hurried through the dining room to buy Elain's seeds.

Whatever the reason, he was glad for it. He was still recovering from the shock of Elain throwing her arms around his shoulders and pressing her soft lips against the scar that ran down the left side of his face. Despite the unusual heat this late into the year, the memory of it made him shiver even as his cheek still tingled where she'd kissed him. Once again, he felt like a foolish greenboy.

When he'd stepped inside, Nesta had taken one look at him, still shirtless and sweating, and sneered.

"Why does it look like Elain's garden is empty?" She asked Feyre. "Where are all her flowers?"

"Because it is empty," Feyre replied, pouring two glasses of water. "The storm from family dinner night practically destroyed everything, so Lucien cleaned it up, clearing away the debris and getting it set up to plant new flowers."

He couldn't be sure since he was still struggling to think clearly, but it almost looked like respect in Nesta's eyes.

Feyre offered the second glass of water to him, and he gulped it down as quickly as the one Elain had brought him.

"Oh, by the way, Lucien," Feyre said, "Rhys told me if I saw you to mention that he, and the guys are having a 'boys' night and asked if you'd want to join them."

Lucien was mildly intimidated about what a boys' night with those three would involve and said as much.

"Booze, raucous laughing, inappropriate jokes," Feyre shrugged. "I'd say if you join them, they might be a bit more civilized, but... that's a huge might."

"Barbarians," Nesta muttered.

Feyre gave her sister a pointed look before glancing back at Lucien and mouthing, hypocrite. Lucien snorted.

"I pity the poor restaurant owner that has to tolerate those three together," Lucien simply said. "And clean up after them."

"Ohhhh no, they know better. They usually go up to the House of Wind, but if you wanted to join them, Rhys said they'd do it here."

"Here?" Lucien looked skeptical as his eyes strayed to Elain in her garden.

"We'll all go out," Feyre explained. "Everyone's been raving about the show at the theatre and the final curtain is in a week, so no better time than now to go see it. Afterward, we'll probably go for a few drinks."

"I would have thought Cassian wouldn't want to drink again for a while, after how much he was complaining yesterday morning," Lucien said with a smirk.

"Illyrians," Feyre supplied, as if that ought to explain everything. "So?"

Lucien shrugged. "Why not."

"Great," Feyre beamed at him. "Now go take a bath. You stink."

Lucien feigned offense and moved around the table to where she stood, threatening to bear hug her with sweat-soaked arms. She shrieked as she leaped backward, out of his reach, and held her two index fingers out, one crossed over the other as if to ward him away from her.

"Have I told you lately what an annoying little shit you are?" He griped with a playful smirk.

"Nope."