He had you in his room?" A dark cloud crosses Jeb’s face. “Do you swear he didn’t try anything?”“Scout’s honor.”He squeezes my waist, tickling me. “Too bad you were never a Scout.”I squirm and smile. “Nothing happened.”That’s a lie. Morpheus got to me in a big way, showing me a side of myself I can hardly believe exists—one I’m not sure Jeb will be able to accept.

“Remember that time you dumped out a whole box of bait?” I almost smile. It was the summer before eighth grade. Dad bought crickets at the bait shop. “They were screaming for help.” *** “And your dad,” Jeb continues. “He didn’t get mad that you turned the bugs loose. He just pulled out the aluminum lures, and that’s what we used from then on. I never knew a father could be like that. Forgiving. Kind. He’s the best guy I know. Pretty sure he saved my life a time or two.”

“Remember that time you dumped out a whole box of bait?” I almost smile. It was the summer before eighth grade. Dad bought crickets at the bait shop. “They were screaming for help.”

“So, you’re basically playing the part of Wendy.” Jeb pauses and glances at me. “Windy?” “Wendy, from Peter Pan. You’re stitching Dad’s shadow into place.” Peter Pan was his favorite fairy tale as a child. His mom read it to him every night. There’s the hint of a shy, boyish grin on his face—the one he used to give me when I’d catch him off guard.

Jeb frowns. “You didn’t give Ivory the chance to explain, did you? You went flying all over the castle half-naked to find me without letting her finish.” I clench my jaw.He turns me to face him. His face flushes with color and he looks strong and healthy again. His frown turns into a smile, those dimples a vision too lovely for words. “Classic Al.”

“Never scare me like that again,” I say.He lifts an eyebrow. “Hey, that’s my line.” Using my dreadlock, he draws my face close and brushes his lips and labret across my forehead, then down my temple to my mouth in a gentle peck.

Reality check right back at ya," he says, his breath a hot rush in the chilly room. "I know you're not a kid anymore. You think I'm blind?" His fingers lace through mine, pinning my arms against the cold, smooth mirrors so our heartbeats pound against each other. "You're the one who's oblivious. Because there's nothing brotherly about the way you make me feel.

Jeb is an anchor; he holds me grounded to my humanity and compassion. But Morpheus is the wind; he drags me kicking and screaming to the highest precipice, shoves me off, then watches me fly with netherling wings. When Jeb's at my side, the world is a canvas--unblemished and welcoming; when I'm with Morpheus, it's a wanton playground--wicked and addictive.

As I start to take his hand, his eyes pass over my lingerie slowly. “Where the hell did you get those?” He obviously recognizes the fabric. “How does that cockroach know your measurements, huh?”