In The Afterlight
Page 58
“I think they understand more than you’d think,” he said, tracing a finger along the edge of my ear. “The kids who aren’t League have been out there running—for years. No one is innocent here. They want it just as bad as we do. We’ll figure out a way to keep them as safe as possible. We’ll take care of them.”
“Is that enough?”
“It will be.” Liam’s kiss was unbearably tender. “I missed this. Us talking, I mean.”
A bolt of guilt shot through me at his words, at how content he sounded.
“Everything else seems crazy,” Liam said, one hand threading through my loose hair, “Let’s just stay here, you and me, and not let anyone or anything else in for a while, okay?”
This was the danger of him. In an instant, he could lift everything off my shoulders and set it aside. He became the answer to every doubt and lingering question. My world refocused, settling on him—beautiful, perfect him. I didn’t have to think about what I’d done, what would happen to us even five minutes from now.
Maybe he would never forgive me, not fully, but there was no thinking in this. If I couldn’t bare every secret to him, unload everything in my heart, at least I could be close to him this way. He wanted comfort, and so did I.
I nodded and brushed my lips as soft as a breath just behind his ear. The response was instant—a shudder ran through him and it became a challenge to get that response from him again and again. He rolled over on top of me and I shifted to draw my legs around his. He pressed down to capture my mouth and I froze at the friction between us.
Liam pulled back, bracing his elbows on either side of my head, his brows drawing together as he studied my face. I felt myself flood with color, the way it spread down my throat, across my chest. It wasn’t the first time I’d felt how much he wanted me, but here, in this room, on this bed—it felt like more of a decision that needed to be made. One I wasn’t ready for.
“It doesn’t have to be anything more than this,” he said, softly. “I don’t want you to think it has to be. This is actually pretty damn great.” Fingers skimmed against my ribcage, ran along the edge of my sports bra. Every last ounce of his attention focused on my lips again. “But if...when I went out, I made sure to get...” The words were flustered, tangled up in one another, but I understood his meaning and it sent a small, growing spiral of happiness through me. He wanted this enough that he’d thought ahead; he would take the necessary precautions. “Days, weeks, years from now...when you’re ready, so am I. Okay?”
I wondered if he could feel how quickly he’d dialed up my heartbeat with only a few words. I was close enough to see the pulse at the base of his throat, if the trembling in his hands hadn’t already spoken for him.
I wrapped my arms around his waist, drawing him down to me again.
“What am I going to do with you?” I asked, only half joking.
That tiny smile grew as he lowered his face toward mine. “Oh, you could try out a thing or two...”
“Like what kinds of things?” I teased, pulling back as he came forward. He made a small, impatient noise. “Things that’ll get us in trouble?”
“You are trouble,” he said. “Capital T and everything—”
I pulled him down, cutting his laughter off before it had the chance to start. My kiss eased off under his touch, becoming slower, a sweet kind of lazy. It made me feel, for the first time in my life, that I actually had time. We could take that soft pace. Explore.
“Can we not go to dinner every night?” I asked as his lips left mine and started to work toward my throat.
“Okay,” he whispered, “works for me.”
I didn’t feel shy or clumsy when my hands slid under his shirt again and began to draw it up, off. I heard him whisper my name, the sound of it breathy and raw, and it was like a hit of a drug to my system. I wanted to hear it again. Again and again and again and again...
There was a tentative knock on the door.
Liam pulled back, breathing hard. It was hard to tell which looked more wild—his hair or his eyes.
Don’t make a sound, I thought, they’ll go away...
They seemed to. I let out a soft sigh as Liam settled back down over me, blocking the rest of the room with his broad shoulders.
Then, the door cracked open.
Liam shot up so fast, he nailed his head against the top bunk and actually half tripped, half fell onto the ground. Cold air hit my skin and I looked down, realizing that at some point, my own shirt had mysteriously vanished, only to reappear on the other end of the bunk’s thin mattress.
“Hang on!” Liam barked. “Just a sec!”
I shoved the thing back over my head just as he bent to scoop his up off the floor. A small piece of folded paper fell out of his back pocket, fluttering to the ground softly. He stumbled over himself to get to the door before it could open the rest of the way, catching it in his hand. Liam filled the doorway with his body, preventing whoever was there from looking or coming in.
“Hey sorry,” came the timid voice, “but the showerhead is going crazy. Do you think you could fix it?”
Liam’s whole posture relaxed. “Now’s not really a great time...”
“The whole bathroom is flooding and, I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean for it to happen—”
“It’s okay,” Liam said, glancing back at me. His face was a portrait of apology. He held up one finger, motioning for me to wait.
“Is that enough?”
“It will be.” Liam’s kiss was unbearably tender. “I missed this. Us talking, I mean.”
A bolt of guilt shot through me at his words, at how content he sounded.
“Everything else seems crazy,” Liam said, one hand threading through my loose hair, “Let’s just stay here, you and me, and not let anyone or anything else in for a while, okay?”
This was the danger of him. In an instant, he could lift everything off my shoulders and set it aside. He became the answer to every doubt and lingering question. My world refocused, settling on him—beautiful, perfect him. I didn’t have to think about what I’d done, what would happen to us even five minutes from now.
Maybe he would never forgive me, not fully, but there was no thinking in this. If I couldn’t bare every secret to him, unload everything in my heart, at least I could be close to him this way. He wanted comfort, and so did I.
I nodded and brushed my lips as soft as a breath just behind his ear. The response was instant—a shudder ran through him and it became a challenge to get that response from him again and again. He rolled over on top of me and I shifted to draw my legs around his. He pressed down to capture my mouth and I froze at the friction between us.
Liam pulled back, bracing his elbows on either side of my head, his brows drawing together as he studied my face. I felt myself flood with color, the way it spread down my throat, across my chest. It wasn’t the first time I’d felt how much he wanted me, but here, in this room, on this bed—it felt like more of a decision that needed to be made. One I wasn’t ready for.
“It doesn’t have to be anything more than this,” he said, softly. “I don’t want you to think it has to be. This is actually pretty damn great.” Fingers skimmed against my ribcage, ran along the edge of my sports bra. Every last ounce of his attention focused on my lips again. “But if...when I went out, I made sure to get...” The words were flustered, tangled up in one another, but I understood his meaning and it sent a small, growing spiral of happiness through me. He wanted this enough that he’d thought ahead; he would take the necessary precautions. “Days, weeks, years from now...when you’re ready, so am I. Okay?”
I wondered if he could feel how quickly he’d dialed up my heartbeat with only a few words. I was close enough to see the pulse at the base of his throat, if the trembling in his hands hadn’t already spoken for him.
I wrapped my arms around his waist, drawing him down to me again.
“What am I going to do with you?” I asked, only half joking.
That tiny smile grew as he lowered his face toward mine. “Oh, you could try out a thing or two...”
“Like what kinds of things?” I teased, pulling back as he came forward. He made a small, impatient noise. “Things that’ll get us in trouble?”
“You are trouble,” he said. “Capital T and everything—”
I pulled him down, cutting his laughter off before it had the chance to start. My kiss eased off under his touch, becoming slower, a sweet kind of lazy. It made me feel, for the first time in my life, that I actually had time. We could take that soft pace. Explore.
“Can we not go to dinner every night?” I asked as his lips left mine and started to work toward my throat.
“Okay,” he whispered, “works for me.”
I didn’t feel shy or clumsy when my hands slid under his shirt again and began to draw it up, off. I heard him whisper my name, the sound of it breathy and raw, and it was like a hit of a drug to my system. I wanted to hear it again. Again and again and again and again...
There was a tentative knock on the door.
Liam pulled back, breathing hard. It was hard to tell which looked more wild—his hair or his eyes.
Don’t make a sound, I thought, they’ll go away...
They seemed to. I let out a soft sigh as Liam settled back down over me, blocking the rest of the room with his broad shoulders.
Then, the door cracked open.
Liam shot up so fast, he nailed his head against the top bunk and actually half tripped, half fell onto the ground. Cold air hit my skin and I looked down, realizing that at some point, my own shirt had mysteriously vanished, only to reappear on the other end of the bunk’s thin mattress.
“Hang on!” Liam barked. “Just a sec!”
I shoved the thing back over my head just as he bent to scoop his up off the floor. A small piece of folded paper fell out of his back pocket, fluttering to the ground softly. He stumbled over himself to get to the door before it could open the rest of the way, catching it in his hand. Liam filled the doorway with his body, preventing whoever was there from looking or coming in.
“Hey sorry,” came the timid voice, “but the showerhead is going crazy. Do you think you could fix it?”
Liam’s whole posture relaxed. “Now’s not really a great time...”
“The whole bathroom is flooding and, I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean for it to happen—”
“It’s okay,” Liam said, glancing back at me. His face was a portrait of apology. He held up one finger, motioning for me to wait.
