“Now you try.”

Sparks. I forget to frame it as a request.

There are no sparks. Instead, the air between my hand and Rafe’s buzzes like a magnetic force, pulling our palms together. His hand presses into mine. It burns—a pleasurable burn that rocks through my whole body. I look up at Rafe and see that his eyes are transfixed on the union of our hands, his brows pulled together in confusion. He looks up, and our gazes meet.

I can’t breathe.

We both look back at our hands, and Rafe twines his fingers into the empty spaces between mine. One by one. Causing all sorts of fluttering feelings in my fluttery parts. Our clasped hands are humming with an intense and tangible energy, and neither of us seems to be willing to break the connection.

Every particle of my body is now feeling the magnetic pull toward Rafe. Like I want every inch of us to be in contact and like that would not be close enough, like I want us to merge into one being.

I take a breath and force my hand out of his. But when I look up into his eyes again, I see raw want. I dread the knowledge that the same look is probably mirrored back to him in my own eyes.

“You’re not really my type,” he says in a breathy voice, “but apparently our Ha’i is highly compatible. I’ve heard of that happening but never experienced it before.”

His expression makes the fluttering in my belly turn into a full-on swarm. And not of delicate butterflies. More like moths and bats and other night things with wicked intentions.

He takes a step forward, his eyes hungrily exploring my body. I’m aghast at his arrogance that he actually thinks it would be appropriate to make a move right now, as that’s clearly what he has in mind. I open my mouth to tell him off, but my dismissal dies on my lips as he closes the distance between us, and my body only wants him closer.

“Stop.” I gasp, backing away from him. I bump into the wall behind me without anywhere else to go. “You’re doing some kind of trick with your Ha’i.”

He laughs. “Me? Little Weed, you can’t blame this all on me.” He trails his pointer finger along my arm, and we both watch in amazement as sparks light up where our skin meets. A physical, electric hum seems to buzz under my skin, and every part of me feels warm and tingly. He leans over and murmurs huskily in my ear, “Your Ha’i has definitely come out to play too.”

I may not understand it, but I know he’s right.