“. . . or you can talk to each other. Now. When the aunties find out, they’re not likely to give you that option.”

“They’re not likely to be quiet about it long enough for us to have the opportunity.”

“That’s what I said.” His eyes flashed black again, he dropped to hooves, and shoved her shoulder with his nose.

She didn’t fall over, but it was close. “You’re a little hard to argue with in that form.” Probably why he’d changed. Arms around his neck, Charlie rested her cheek on his shoulder. There were times when a world-destroying asteroid didn’t sound like an entirely terrible prospect.

Her backup band usually took a break while she was in the park, so there was a distinct lack of hurtin’ music happening. She kind of missed it.

*   *   *

“I’m not running away from you because I don’t like you. I’m running because I like you too much.”

Jack stared up at her, opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, and finally said, “What?”

Perched on the rock Jack and Dan had been leaning against, taking advantage of the residual warmth, Charlie picked at a bit of charred lichen. “The seven-year rule is there for a reason. Gales are all attracted to power and that attraction opens up a terrifying potential for abuse.”

“Yeah, that’s what David said.” Head cocked, he studied her face for a moment, then stepped closer as a patch of dead brush and a medium-sized hunk of stone disappeared to become gray jeans and gray shoes and a beige, corduroy jacket. “So . . . you like me too much because I’m powerful?”

Easy out. She sighed and wished she could take it. “No. I like you too much because I like you too much. The power has something to do with it, sure, but you’re funny, you’re smart, you’re unique, you’re attractive, you laugh at my jokes. Who knows why someone likes someone too much? They just do.”

He looked intrigued. “How much is too much?”

“It’s too much when certain people bring up the seven-year rule.” Certain people were certainly listening.

Jack nodded, hair falling into his eyes. “Oh. Okay.” When he looked up, the line of his shoulders had changed just enough Charlie realized he’d relaxed—which made her wonder how long he’d been tense and why hadn’t she noticed it. “Then I like you too much, too.” There was gentle mockery behind his repetition of her phrase. Before Charlie could call him on it, before she was even sure she was going to call him on it because she’d certainly tossed around a little self-mockery back when she’d first realized her feelings, he added, his tone matter-of-fact, “I want to be with you all the time and it drives me nuts when you just take off like I don’t matter.”