One song bled into another and they remained locked together, neither willing to break the intimacy that surrounded them, concealing them in the small space the two occupied.

Some crushes just never went away. They built, instead, into something permanent, obsessive and all consuming.

Tell me, warrior, how soon can we do this again?

You’re my dream, Alaric McCabe. And I love you. I’ve loved you from the moment your horse dumped you at my cottage. I spent so much time being resentful and lamenting the circumstances of my life, but ’tis true that I wouldn’t change a single thing because then I would have never known your love.

I'm not stubborn. My way is just better.

What are the two of you whispering about?” Alaric demanded irritably. She glanced over to see the warrior watching her, his eyes narrow with suspicion. “If I wanted you to know, I’d have spoken louder,” she said calmly. He turned away muttering what she was sure were more blasphemies about annoying females. “You must make the priest weary with the length of your confessions,” she said. He raised one eyebrow. “Who says I confess anything?

But if I lost you, it would devastate me as nothing else has or ever could. You have so much power over me and that’s frightening.