Spycraft Academy B. Miles (new ebook reader txt) 📖

moonlight, baring her almost completely from the hips up. His hands twitched.

"We'll start looking for recruits tomorrow. Deal?"

"Uh-huh."

Sam slowly stood to follow her, but she shoved him back into a seated position and wagged her finger at him.

"I don't think so, Sammy. You made me wait years for you, I think you can wait at least a week for me."

She didn't wait for his answer before she winked, turned around, and strutted down the hallway before slipping into her dorm without a single glance back at him.

The more he thought about waiting, the more it felt like agony. Images of Mattie and him together bubbled his crowded skull and he was standing at attention in seconds. He had a feeling he would be thinking about it all week. In fact, he may not be able to think of anything else.

She probably knew it, too. Mattie was his everything, but she was also the most vicious creature he'd ever met. The funny thing was, nobody ever saw it until it was too late. And despite knowing her for half his life, despite knowing how wicked she could be, he didn't know just how wickedly she would treat him until now.

Strangely, that made her all the more tempting.

7

Seven days used to feel like a breath in time to Sam. Always racing to find the next job, always running to catch up with survival as it darted a half-step ahead.

This particular seven-day stretch, however, felt like an eternity. Every hour he was awake, Sam was either in class, sleeping, eating, or throwing secret looks at Mattie, trying to get her alone so he could nuzzle into her hair and kiss along her jawline. It had become a fun challenge between them, trying to see if she would crack before the week was up. Twice, Sam thought she would throw her constriction to the wind and climb him like a tree. She had a strong focus, though, and she managed to control herself. He didn't know how she did it; he wasn't doing great, himself. The only thing that made him stop thinking about Mattie was class. At least there, she eased up on him and he was able to get lost in the knowledge he was soaking in.

His favorite class was outdoors training. They hadn't gotten to do much beyond building lean-to's and studying terrain impressions, but he was good at it. Sam had lived in the city all his life, had only set foot in a forest a couple of times, and yet he was structuring mud-thatched roofs like he'd done it for years.

There was more combat training, too. After the incident with Delcan, Hilda had limited them to unarmed katas and fitness training. She'd apparently gotten into some trouble with the administration for allowing the two of them to try to kill each other on the first day—the only reason Sam could guess that was because she forbade them from touching the weapons 'even though spilling blood is good for character, and thrice damn every milk-boned lowlander who whines about it.'

He thought the fitness training would be easier than weapons training, but he'd been very wrong. Given how effortlessly Hilda completed each exercise along with the class, Sam shuddered to imagine her people gathered as a screaming hoard.

His body felt like a used, pulped bag of meat by mid-week, but at least he wasn't alone. The nobles looked far more miserable than he was, so that gave him some satisfaction at least. Drina didn't look half as tired as the rest of them, but from hearing her talk of her home, it seemed that her freakish stamina came from hours of manual labor and exercise.

Then there was language class, mathematics, cipher class, poisons, speech, and all manner of things Sam wished he knew when he was younger. He wasn't picking them up as fast as he'd hoped, and his frustration made his enthusiasm billow away in favor of determination.

Mattie had been right about them isolating themselves, though. It was so easy to flirt with her and discuss whatever was on his mind that he accidentally booted Fletch and Drina out of the conversation more than he cared to admit.

Fletch took it in stride and didn't seem to be bothered by it. Drina was another matter. Ever since she caught the two of them in the alcove, she hadn't been as enthusiastic or talkative. She wasn't rude, per sey, but she was quiet. She would respond if somebody spoke to her directly, but it was like the vivacious soul had been sucked right out of her.

Sam could guess why. Her last wager against him, her behavior now—she hadn't just been fooling around. She liked Mattie.

Sure, she'd only known the redhead for a week, but that was plenty of time for an infatuation to form. He had to talk to Drina about it, they couldn't be a team if she hated his guts, but every time he approached her when she was alone, she would bristle and walk away. At least she didn't give Mattie the same treatment.

He'd feel worse about it if he hadn't been pining after the redhead for so long, if he didn't love her. But he had, and he did, and it wasn't his fault that Drina was salty about it. Her feelings were not his responsibility, and although he understood her disappointment, he wouldn't stop because of it.

"Ugh," Mattie groaned. She had taken to wearing a satchel to carry her books while Sam carried his under his arm. "I swear, if Sheet makes us do any more of those arm stands, I'm going to collapse."

Sam bit his tongue to keep himself from saying anything too forward with Fletch and Drina walking abreast of them. The week was up, and although he wasn't going to hold Mattie to some deadline like an asshole or pressure her, he wasn't going to wait for her to approach him that night either. She made her feelings clear, there was no reason