Chapter Thirteen
“Fuck.” Law’s word rang out in the kitchen as I reached into the fridge to put away the milk I’d just poured into my morning cereal. “You in that ball cap will be the death of me.”
I had no idea when Law was supposed to be home, but when I got up this morning, I knew I wanted to look extra special for him, so I threw on my shorts, another of his racing tees, and a cap from his closet that looked worn to hell. I pulled my ponytail through the back hole and when I looked into the mirror, I felt like I belonged, that when I finally went to the track with Law, I wouldn’t stick out like a sore thumb city girl.
“You like?” I twirled around with a spoon in my hand. I felt like a child, probably looked like one in this exact moment, but from the hunger I saw in Law’s eyes once I turned to face him again, I knew this wasn’t child’s play.
“I love.” He stalked toward me, his hands reaching out to grab for my waist and pull me toward him. He leaned down and his lips crashed to mine. I could get used to this being away from Law, for this particular reason. We were both wound up and ready to pounce. The anticipation made me crave us together.
I placed my hands on his chest and tried to keep him at bay momentarily.
“Can I finish my breakfast?”
“It’s noon. I’ll take you to lunch.” He leaned in for another kiss to try to distract me from the bowl of cereal that sat next to us.
“I’ve eaten out every day, all weekend. I want to stay home today. Relax. Eat this horrible, but amazing sugary goodness doused with milk and then maybe a peanut butter and jelly sandwich later and ice cream for dinner.”
This time I leaned up for the kiss, but Law broke it off.
“Sometimes I forget just how young you are.”
I was caught off guard by his response. I tried to take a step back, but Law’s arms tightened around me.
“It’s not a bad thing.”
He tried to reassure me, but I felt a tinge of insecurity. I had never thought much about our age difference and when I talked to his mom, she seemed to support it, saying we seemed to be meant for each other. That we balanced each other out.
“Stop that.”
I brought my attention back to Law.
“Stop over thinking, sugar.”
“Does our age difference matter to you?”
“Sugar,” Law drew out the nickname he had given me.
“Don’t sugar me, just answer the question,” I demanded. If he wasn’t so close to me I would’ve stomped my foot to try to make my point.
“Twelve years means nothing to me, Anya. The only thing that bothers me about it is that I didn’t find you sooner and all of that time has been taken away from us.” He leaned down and placed his forehead against mine. “Your age, my age, they don’t matter. Your youth, though, that I love. Your innocent laughter and how you get lost in yourself, I miss that. You haven’t been damaged by a cruel world. You’re pure.”
“You’re the same, though, Law.” I placed my hands on the sides of his face, caging us into a box between my arms. He lifted me and placed me on the counter, his hands flat beside my hips. I wrapped my legs around him, making sure this time he wouldn’t leave me when I told him what I thought. “You might think your age means you’ve seen it all, but you haven’t seen anything yet.”
I placed my lips on his and bit his lip, pulling until it popped out of in between my teeth. Law’s nostrils flared and I knew I didn’t have much time before he took this back to his room.
“You’re not old. I’m not young. We’re just Lawson and Anya.” I tried to get through to him.
“We’re just what then?” he asked me before getting in a quick kiss.
“We’re just perfect.” I stole another kiss from him because he broke away and turned his attention to my side. I thought he might’ve been eyeballing my breakfast, but when he held up the little red notebook, this whole conversation was about to change.
“What’s this?”
I tightened my hold on Law as he opened the notebook. “Just…” I tried to reach for it in his hands, but he lifted it into the air and started to read it. “Questions.”
“What is a qualifier? What is the poll? How does the Championship work?” He put the notebook to his side and looked down at me. “Wait. Are these race questions?”
“Yeah,” I answered and tried to reach for the notebook again. “Let me have them. I’m not done!”
