“You know," he said, "under normal circumstances, you inviting me to the bedroom would be the highlight of my day."I crossed my arms and sat on the bed. I did so out of simple fatigue, but a moment later, I was struck by what I was doing. This is where Adrian sleeps. I'm touching the covers he's wrapped in every night. What does he wear? Does he wear anything? I jumped up.”

“Under normal circumstances, you inviting me to the bedroom would be the highlight of my day.”

“What's up?" I asked.You tell me," he said. "You were the one about ready to start making out with Adrian."It was an experiment," I said. "It was part of my therapy."What the hell kind of therapy are you in?”

“Wow,” said Adrian. He sat down on the bed and tested its bounciness, giving it a nod of approval. “This is amazing. What do you think, buttercup?”“I have no words,” I said honestly.He patted the spot beside him. “Want to try it out?”

“So, explain this," Avery said, "You just, what, hang around the Academy all day? Are you trying to redo your high school experience?" "Nothing to redo," said Adrian loftily. "I totally ruled my high school. I was worshiped and adored—not that that should come as a shock." Beside him, Christian nearly choked on his food. "So. . .You're trying to relive your glory days. It's all gone downhill since then, huh?" "No way," said Adrian. "I'm like a fine wine. I get better with age. The best is yet to come.""Seems like it'd get old after a while," said Avery, "I'm certainly bored, and I even spend part of the day helping my dad." "Adrian sleeps most of the day," noted Lissa, "So he doesn't actually have to worry about finding things to do." "Hey, I spend a good portion of my time helping you unravel the mysteries of spirit," Adrian reminded her. "And," he added, "I can visit people in their dreams."Christian held up a hand. "Stop. I can feel there's a comment coming on about how women already dream about you. I just ate, you know." "I wasn't going to go there," said Adrian. But he kind of looked like he wished he'd thought of the joke first.”

“Do you know what I see in you now? The usual aura. A steady golden yellow, healthy and strong, with spikes of purple here and there. But when I do this. . . .”He rested a hand on my hip, and my whole body tensed up. That hand moved around my hip, slipping under my shirt to rest on the small of my back. My skin burned where he touched me, and the places that were untouched longed for that heat.“See?” he said. He was in the throes of spirit now, though with me at the same time. “Well, I guess you can’t. But when I touch you, your aura . . . it smolders. The colors deepen, it burns more intensely, the purple increases. Why? Why, Sydney?” He used that hand on me to pull me closer. “Why do you react that way if I don’t mean anything to you?” There was a desperation in his voice, and it was legitimate.”

“I know your character. I know you're going to be a great guardian.”His confidence made that warm feeling return. "I'm glad someone does. Everyone else thinks I'm totally irresponsible.”"With the way you worry more about Lissa than yourself…" He shook his head. "No. You understand your responsibilities better than guardians twice your age. You'll do what you have to do to succeed.”I thought about that. "I don't know if I can do everything I have to do.”He did that cool one-eyebrow thing."I don't want to cut my hair," I explained.He looked puzzled. "You don't have to cut your hair. It's not required.”"All the other guardian women do. They show off their tattoos.”Unexpectedly, he released my hands and leaned forward. Slowly, he reached out and held a lock of my hair, twisting it around one finger thoughtfully. I froze, and for a moment, there was nothing going on in the world except him touching my hair. He let my hair go, looking a little surprised—andembarrassed—at what he'd done."Don't cut it," he said gruffly.Somehow, I remembered how to talk again. "But no one'll see my tattoos if I don't.”He moved toward the doorway, a small smile playing over his lips. "Wear it up.”