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Migration Patterns snippet

“Pretty obvious,” Tim told her. “I mean. I was in the room when you set his childhood legacy on fire and he spent the entire time staring like you were something he couldn’t wait to put in his mouth.” He reached, stole the wine. Elle let it happen. “Plus,” Tim added, wiping his lips on the back of one bruised to hell wrist, after a hefty chug, “You left together. He tucked you inside his jacket.”   A laugh, nearly silent, hidden against her neck. Jason’s mouth- Jason’s teeth- entire gesture charmingly soft and still something that left Elle shivering if she thought about it hard enough. Three knives, two guns, and Elle, precious against his person.   Held.   Elle switched legs to lean on, juddering as she went, unable to stay still. “That’s just- affection.”   Wine discarded, last of his coffee tipped dramatically to catch every dreg, Tim made an absolutely scathing sound. “Jason doesn’t touch people.”   Jason, whose sheer physicality tore open every attempt to stymie the fond, hungry desires of her heart. Never more than a reach away, those first three days they’d known each other again. Smooth confidence that made her feel a little insane- care, Jason was so fucking careful it made Elle want to break things, wrapping his arm around her in rain, pulling her out of the way of fire, one broad hand between her skull and brick.   “What?”   Tim hauled himself upright by grabbing the island. “You want a latte?”   It was not, apparently, a request that required answering. Elle stared at the sea green wine bottle, and tried not to think about the incredible color of Artemis’s eyes. The way Kori had lifted Elle straight off her feet in a hug, six and a half feet of stunning curves.   Elle liked herself just fine.   She wasn’t even jealous, exactly- embarrassed, thoroughly- explosively attracted, yes- maybe they’d let her go lay on Amazonian beaches without her more gorgeous other half, and she could finally learn how to use Messalina’s sword.   New York could have her back in any need. Jason could keep Gotham. Her heart might as well also get her home.   It might even be a nice exile. Donna was cool as hell, and Elle probably had just enough Warden inherited Greek lurking in her brain that she’d be able to read the books in their famous citadel.

Tim pushed a coffee mug into her nerveless hands. Perfect froth- little bits of culinary lavender and rose from her tea cabinet sprinkled over, clear if unneeded evidence Tim had gone exploring.   Elle took a sip. “Where’d the milk come from?”

Rather than retreat back to his hiding place, Tim lowered himself down across from her. Stared for a just a second, before his mouth twitched. “You’re freaking out.”