Page 54 of Legacy Found

"Very encouraging. Thank you."

For half a second, Soren looks amused.

Then he steps around behind me.

"May I?"

I blink.

I did not expect may I from Ander Ardent, who told me to return to my table the first night I met him.

"...Sure."

His hand settles on my shoulder.

And—

Oh.

He's barely touching me. Just the warm weight of his palm through my shirt, but my entire body notices. My breath catches, and some stupid instinct tells me to lean back.

Into him.

I absolutely do not do that.

His other hand closes lightly around my arm.

"Here," he says, quieter now, close enough that I feel the word against the side of my neck. He shifts my shoulder back, nudges my elbow higher. "You're protecting your face but opening your ribs."

I'm supposed to be listening. I am listening.

I'm also extremely aware that Ander Ardent is standing directly behind me with one hand on my shoulder and the other wrapped around my arm.

Which seems unnecessary information for my body to be cataloging this thoroughly.

"There," he says.

But he doesn't move.

Not immediately.

There's one strange suspended second where neither of us does anything. His thumb is resting against my bare skin just below my sleeve. My back is maybe an inch from his chest.

And every cell in my body seems extremely interested in closing that inch.

What the hell?

I turn my head.

Ander's already looking at me.

Up this close, his eyes aren't simply blue. They're darker around the edges, startlingly bright toward the center, and whatever I expect to find in them — annoyance, probably — isn't there.

He looks as startled as I feel. For one strange second, neither of us moves. Then I feel it. His thumb. One slow, absent stroke against my arm. Like he doesn't even realize he's doing it.

Ander's eyes sharpen. He looks down at his own hand.

Then he steps away so abruptly the warmth disappears from my back.