Perfekt Order (The Ære Saga Book 1) (6 page)

Well, butter my toast. Classes hadn’t even
started and Charlotte was already working in her dream field. And
Jason thought
I
was type A.

Brynn’s phone rang, and she pulled it out of
her pocket to check the screen. “It’s Henrik. I’ll be right
back.”

“Ooh, Henrik!” Charlotte teased. Brynn turned
and beamed at us as she ducked out of the kitchen.

“He’s cute,” I drawled, as I poured some
sauce into a small pan and left it covered on the stove to
simmer.

“He’s gorge,” Heather chimed in. “Just
friends, sure.”

“Wonder how long that’ll last.” Charlotte
grinned.

“Probably not as long as she thinks.” I
transferred the chicken to a baking dish, covered it with the
remaining tomato sauce, and added a generous amount of cheese
across the top before sticking the entire thing in the oven. “Time
to parmesan. About four more minutes on the noodles.”

“Four minutes?” Brynn poked her head into the
kitchen. “Great. Be right back.” She ran down the hallway and
opened the front door, slamming it shut behind her.

“What the…?” Heather walked to the window and
peeked outside. “Mmm-hmm.”

Charlotte and I crossed to her side and poked
our heads around the curtain. Outside, Henrik stood next to a jeep.
I craned my neck to see if anyone else was in the car, and tried to
ignore the disappointment that settled over me when I saw Tyr
wasn’t with him. Instead, I watched as Henrik handed Brynn a
package. She beamed up at him.

“Aw. He brought her a present!”

“Wonder what it is. Oh. Move.” Heather pushed
us back to the table as Henrik turned toward the window. He didn’t
need to see three curious faces pressed against the glass. We could
interrogate Brynn when she came inside.

“Act natural,” Charlotte hissed. She and
Heather pulled out chairs and feigned nonchalance while I gave the
noodles one final stir. By the time the front door clicked open,
our giggles were somewhat under control.

“I saw you guys.” Brynn rolled her eyes as
she came into the kitchen.

“Us?” Charlotte batted her eyelashes. “We
don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Subtle,” Brynn deadpanned. She grabbed
something off the counter and slipped it into her pocket. I was too
focused on not burning myself on the noodles to see what it
was.

“Serving up in a couple minutes, ladies,” I
announced.

“Great.” Brynn raced up the stairs while I
stirred the remaining pasta sauce. By the time I’d plated the pasta
and the chicken on two big platters for the table, Brynn was back
in the kitchen. She leaned over the counter and held up my phone.
“Looks like you missed a call, Mia. Who’s Jason?”

“My brother. I’ll call him later. Go sit
down.” I shooed her to the table.

She picked up her water glass. “I’m starving.
Can I help dish up?”

“Nope. It’s family style.” I carried the
dishes to the table and winked at my roommates. “Unless you want to
tell us what Henrik gave you.”

“Uh, nothing.”

Knowing prevarication when I saw it, I raised
my cup to divert the attention off Brynn. “To college life. And to
dinners with new friends.”

“Hear, hear,” Charlotte agreed.

“
Skål,
” Brynn chimed in. “Cheers.”

We clinked our glasses together. It wasn’t
the Sunday night dinner I was used to—the one with Mama’s pot
roast, Grandpa’s bad jokes, and Jason and me fork-fighting over the
last slice of Meemaw’s mud pie. But this could be a different kind
of family, and, I hoped, the start of a new kind of tradition.
After all, Jason always said change was the first rung on the
ladder of growth. And so far, my brother hadn’t steered me
wrong.

I winked at Brynn and brought my glass to my
lips. “
Skål
.”

****

At zero-dark-thirty on Monday morning, I
laced up my running shoes and stepped outside. The air smelled
fresh and crisp, like the tang of a freshly picked Macintosh. It
was still early enough in the year that there was a sliver of light
at this hour, but it wouldn’t be long before my morning jogs
required streetlights for illumination.

At the edge of our porch, I paused. The
prudent thing to do would be to jog through the neighborhood and
around campus. I was alone, I hadn’t brought the mace I’d promised
Daddy I’d keep on me at all times, and I didn’t know what kinds of
animals might be scouting for breakfast at this hour. Even though a
couple of days had passed, the animal/mountain man hallucination
was disturbingly vivid. But nothing had actually happened, and it
would have been silly to let some weird nightmare keep me from
those gorgeous jogging trails forever. Besides, if Google was to be
believed, the trails behind my house were really popular hiking
spots. People drove from all over California to see this particular
patch of Redwoods. If there were a legitimate danger, Hikers.com
wouldn’t boast so many glowing recommendations.

I’d just follow a different trail this time.
No need to trigger any freaky flashbacks.

I hung a left at the end of our driveway and
headed toward the woods. The pavement turned to dirt, and my
running shoes padded softly on the dusty surface as I inhaled
forest air. The redwoods smelled of calm—pine, and dirt, and moss,
and earth. The vibe was almost majestic.

According to Google, this particular path
should loop through the woods, creating a five-mile track that came
out just above campus. As promised, it started as a gentle slope. I
lowered my head as I jogged up the hill. It didn’t look difficult,
but half a mile up, my calves were enveloped in a healthy burn. I
ignored the sensation, and distracted myself with the first thought
that came into my head. The image of Tyr offering me his hand
wasn’t particularly helpful, so I focused on circular breathing
instead, inhaling through my nose and exhaling through my mouth.
When I neared the top of the hill, I glanced up.

And immediately wished I hadn’t.

“You have got to be kidding me,” I muttered
under my breath. A familiar silhouette stood at the top of the
hill, hands shoved in the pockets of his hoodie. His back was to
me, but his unnatural height, broad shoulders, and air of
confidence left little doubt as to his identity.
Cheese and
crackers
.

Since I wasn’t awake enough to exchange fake
pleasantries, I skidded to a stop and took a step back. A twig
snapped under my feet. Tyr pulled his shoulders back and turned his
head. The hood of his sweatshirt covered his hair, but his piercing
blue gaze bore down on me from the top of the hill. His eyes
narrowed infinitesimally as he gave a tight nod.

“
Hei hei
, Mia. Going somewhere?”

“Just out for a run.” I glanced over my
shoulder, wondering if there was any graceful way to hightail it
out of the forest.

“Mmm.” Tyr didn’t move. Instead, he stared
into the woods like he was surveying the woods for threats.

“Everything okay up there?”

“Couldn’t be better. Why do you ask?” Tyr
tore his eyes away from the tree line and looked directly at me. A
fresh coat of sweat broke out across my forehead, and I wiped my
face on my sleeve. With any luck he’d think I was tired from my
run… since a lady did not
glisten
at the mere sight of her
almost-date.

“You just look so serious,” I offered.

“Usually do.” He shrugged. “Which way were
you headed?”

“Um… I was following the Woodside Trail—it’s
another mile over this hill, then it loops back toward campus.”

“No.” Tyr’s voice was firm.

“No, it doesn’t loop back?” I questioned.

“No, you’re not going that way. We’ll take
the Sequoia Trail back.” Tyr pointed to his right.

The hairs at the back of my neck prickled.
“We? I’m sorry. Did I invite you to run with me?” I tried to keep
my tone playful, but I didn’t like the way Tyr told me what to do.
Or the way he seemed to assume I’d just do what he said. Did girls
just blindly follow orders where he came from?

Actually, they probably did. He just oozed
the kind of raw power that all but screamed
Thou shalt do
whatever I command. And thou shalt be extremely happy about
it.

“Apologies,
prinsessa
. May I join you
for a run?” Tyr raised one eyebrow.

“Well, now you’re just mocking me. I’ll jog
alone, thank you very much. Toodles.” I marched up the hill and
bumped Tyr’s arm as I passed him. The contact sent a wave of heat
along my side.

“Mia.” Tyr’s tone was low. “I told you not to
go that way.”

I whirled around, planting one hand firmly on
my hip. “You don’t get to tell me what trail to take.”

“I do when it’s for your own good. Let’s go.”
Tyr jogged thirty feet along the ridge then turned around. “You
coming?”

“My own good? Excuse me, who exactly do you
think you are?”

“You don’t want to know.” Tyr met my stare as
I sized him up.

“Maybe I don’t.”

“You just have to trust me, Mia.”

I played with the thin gold band I wore on my
pointer finger, an heirloom my Meemaw gave me when I graduated high
school. On the one hand, I didn’t like being told what to do,
especially by someone who was pretty much a stranger, and without
any kind of an explanation, or so much as a ‘please.’ But the truth
was, I did want to run with Tyr. And that bothered me. Because I
was in the middle of proving a very important point about my
independence to a man who seemed to have an unfortunately backwards
attitude about women—or maybe he just had a backwards attitude
about me. Either way, caving at this particular moment seemed like
a giant fail for the sisterhood, not to mention a landslide for my
personal self-esteem.

But dang it, he’d seemed like a pretty decent
guy the other night—one I wanted to get to know better. Plus, he
looked really, really good in those shorts.

I raised my chin in a futile attempt to feign
control. “Fine. I’ll let you run with me. And we’ll go your way…
today
. But Wednesday I’m taking the Woodside Trail. And
you’re not coming with me.”

“It’s a public trail. And I’m usually in the
forest about this time.”

“Well, next time I won’t be so agreeable.
This is a one-off, buddy. Don’t get used to ordering me
around.”

“Whatever you say,
prinsessa
.” Tyr
took off at a slow lope, and I ran after him.

“Why do you care so much what trail I take,
anyway?” We hung a left at the big rock and followed the sign
pointing to the Sequoia Trail.

“It’s not safe.”

“You’re worried about me?” I shot him a grin
as we rounded the corner.

“You don’t have the greatest sense of
self-preservation.” He looked down at me.

“Okay, now you’re just being rude.”

“A hiker was nearly attacked on the Woodside
Trail last week. The rangers only just took down the signs warning
about a possibly rabid animal. Didn’t your roommates tell you?”

“No.” My arm throbbed at the phantom animal
bite, and I shivered. Maybe my imagination hadn’t been so off after
all.

“Well, they should have. It’s not safe for
anyone to be up there. Especially not someone who runs as slow as
you do.”

My head whipped up, evil eye at the ready,
but Tyr grinned back at me.

“Oh, it’s on.” I lowered my head and pushed
off the balls of my feet. Using all the force I could muster, I
barreled through the thick grove of trees. Tyr’s easy laugh sounded
beside me as he kept my pace. I pumped my arms and pounded the
dirt, cold air whipping my face as I moved. My eyes darted to the
side.
Dang it
. He hadn’t even broken a sweat. “Well, it’s
easy to run fast when your legs are seven feet long,” I
muttered.

“Mmm. Tell yourself whatever you need to
hear.”

“Rude.” Realizing my chances of outrunning
the Swedish giant were nil, I slowed to a normal pace. Tyr matched
my stride.

“Speaking of rude, I’m sorry about the other
night,” he offered after a moment of silence. “About taking off
like that.”

“You definitely know how to make a dramatic
exit. Everything okay?”

“Not really. But there’s not a lot I can do
right now.”

“Want to talk about it?” I asked.

“No.”

That was clear.

“I didn’t do something to offend you, did I?”
You know, because you never finished asking me out
. I stared
at the twigs beneath my feet as I ran.

“What? No. Nothing like that. I just had
some… some personal stuff I needed to deal with.” Tyr didn’t offer
anything more, and despite my
excellent
opening, he didn’t
ask any follow-up questions about any perfectly good first-date
suggestions. With a silent sigh, I tabled my disappointment and
resolved to live in the moment. Running through ancient redwoods
with a superhero clone was definitely a once-in-a-lifetime
experience… even if it did require bludgeoning my instinct to
analyze Tyr’s intentions and predict his future behavior. Old
habits died hard with me.

We fell into a companionable silence as we
made our way through the forest. The only sounds were the morning
birds, the occasional falling pinecone, and our soft footsteps.
After another mile, we reached the end of the trail. Tyr continued
onto the pavement, and I followed.

“You and Brynn live this way.” He nodded.

“Yep. Where’s your place?” I jogged beside
him.

“I’ll run you home.” That didn’t answer my
question, but his smile made me forget what I’d asked. The early
morning sun filtered through the trees to hit the planes of his
face, illuminating his spectacular features in an almost ethereal
way. A light sheen lined his brow, and his eyes sparkled against
softly tanned skin. His hood was still pulled over his hair, and I
wondered if he had bed head underneath that fabric.
Stop,
Mia
. No need to put
Tyr
and
bed
in the same
sentence. Nothing was going to happen between us. Not even
dinner.