I hugged everyone. Only Andrew seemed angry. Dad and Meghan seemed worried, but like they didn’t know what else to say. It wasn’t often that Meghan was at a loss for words.
“No dinner here on Sunday.” Dad wrung his hands together. “But I’ll expect you both the following week.”
He included Christopher in the invitation, which made me smile. Dad looked shaken about what had happened, but he didn’t like to talk about feelings. He’d always been like that—emotions made him uncomfortable. He was more a hug-first-talk-never kind of guy.
“We’ll be here,” said Christopher with a final handshake.
This time, the car ride was quiet instead of filled with chatter. I rested my head on the back of my seat and closed my eyes, though I stayed awake.
It was late when we stopped at the curb outside my place. I was drained from my emotional outburst upstairs in my old room.
Christopher shut off the engine. “I’m considering borrowing you.” He paused, then said, “I want to take you to my place and keep you.” He took my hand in his.
His words were the opposite of what I expected. I raised my eyebrow. I didn’t know if he saw it in the dark, but he must know I had questions. My heart skipped with his possessive words. They weren’t threatening—they felt protective.
I looked up at him. His eyes gleamed with reflected light from the streetlight.
“I don’t want to leave you alone tonight. You’ll convince yourself that you don’t deserve to be happy, or some rubbish like that. You’ll try to shut me out. You’ll say it’s too soon, that you and my brother only ended things last week. Before you say that, I’m going to remind you it’s been five years since the two of you broke up. I’ve also known you a year longer than he has. When you talk about him, when you think about him, you don’t feel like you’re in love.”
He was right.
“Can I come in, so we can finish this discussion?”
His voice cracked as he asked to stay and my heart went out to him. I nodded and stepped out of his car. He took my hand as we made our way to my front door. I liked how he showed physical affection so often.
Inside, he released my hand and shoved his hands in his jean pockets. He took a deep breath and said, “Are you scared of me? Knowing I hear some of your thoughts. I try to ignore most of what people think, but though rarer, yours are focused and often a shout. They’re hard to ignore.”
I shook my head. Christopher didn’t scare me.
“It’ll be hard for you to keep secrets. Are you okay with that?”
It was scary, but the thought of someone actually knowing me and liking me anyway was intoxicating. If I let him in, it would be all the way in. I nodded.
We kicked off our shoes, and he guided me to the couch. Butterflies flitted about my stomach as I sat. I wasn’t sure who moved first, but his mouth was on mine, that mocha scent that was him enveloped me. My arms wrapped around him. He was hard everywhere, his muscles like iron.
We kissed until I wasn’t aware of anything in the world other than Christopher’s lips, his hands, and his body touching mine. If there were kissing Olympics, he was the champion, the gold medalist. My nerve endings flickered with a fire’s heat and he knocked all thoughts from my head. There was nothing left for him to read when my mind was blank—peace was bliss.
Eventually, he wrested his mouth from mine. We were lying on the couch and I lay on top of him. My lips tingled and were swollen. His icy blue eyes sparkled. One of his hands made lazy circles on my hip under my dress. So little separated us.
“Are you aware that this dress makes me want to rip it off you?” His voice was soft, but huskier than usual.
When he kissed me again, I mouthed, “Yes,” against his lips. I’d worn it for him. His answer was a moan and for a second it seemed like I read his mind, too. I sensed an upwelling of tenderness. It wasn’t the unadulterated lust I’d expected.
“You’re certain I don’t scare you? What about my temper? I might yell, but I’d never hurt you. I yell, then flash, my anger gone. I felt like such an asshole earlier.”
As I kissed him, I breathed my answer against his mouth. “No.” I was rewarded with another surge of emotion. His hand was gentle on my face, the other splayed across my lower back beneath the fabric of the dress.
“It’s late. Can I sleep here tonight?” His eyes searched mine. “Just sleep?”
I nodded and slid off him, missing his warmth immediately. It was after one. Ember had disappeared ages ago. She’d be on the bed.
When we went down the hall, we passed the master bedroom. I’d left the door open earlier when moving more of my belongings to my new room.
“This is the guest room,” Christopher said as we entered my room. He turned one way, then the other. “Isn’t it?” He raised an eyebrow. “There’s no ensuite. Isn’t the other room larger?”
“Eric used to hurt me in the other room.”When I’d woken up in the other room two weeks ago, I’d moved back here, though this time I’d brought my clothes. Eric had never seen or touched them.
“Maybe we should buy you a new house,” he said as I plugged my phone into the charger on my nightstand. “Somewhere with no awful memories.”
