Part 17 (2/2)
”I never lock up,” I remind him. ”And did you know mom's been taking her meds again?”
He ruffles his hair and pulls on his knitted beanie. ”Yeah, I talked to her this morning. She showed up after you left, totally out of it, and I got her to take them.”
”What about you?” I pluck a twig out of my hair. ”Are you still taking yours?”
”Of course.” He rolls his eyes.
”Is that the only drug you're taking?”
He tucks his hands in his pockets. ”You know I don't do that c.r.a.p anymore. Not since... Well, anyway, I'm going to check out for a little bit. And like I said, leave the door unlocked just in case my friend shows up before me.” He pauses at the top of the stairway. ”Oh yeah, and if I were you, I'd go for the one with the dark hair.”
I clutch my bedroom doork.n.o.b. ”What are you talking about?”
”The guy thing.” He starts down the stairs. ”I don't like that Cameron guy... He's too... I don't know, c.o.c.ky or something-definitely not your type.”
”You haven't even met Asher yet,” I argue with no valid point because I want Asher too.
He shrugs and vanishes down the stairs. Moments later, the front door slams shut. I sigh and open my bedroom door. All I want to do is take a hot shower and wash off today.
”Hey.”
The sound of his voice sends my heart soaring. My eyes dart to Asher sitting on my bed, the hood of his jacket pulled over his head, and he's playing with the raven feather. The window is open behind him and the wind gusts in, flapping the edges of the papers and pictures hanging on my walls.
”How did you get in here?” I ask, shutting the door.
He looks up from the feather with hooded eyes. ”Your brother let me in.”
”So that's what the remark was about,” I mumble, then hunt for the right words. ”What happened earlier... with Cameron-I shouldn't have done that.”
”Done what exactly?” An underlying meaning hints in his words. He sets the feather down on the bed, slides the hood off his head, and rakes his fingers through his hair, leaving wisps in his eyes.
”Do you really want me to tell you?” I slant back against the door and fold my arms.
With his eyes locked on me, he pushes to his feet. ”I need to know-it's driving me crazy not knowing.” His eyes skim my body. ”Especially when you look like that.”
I rub the leftover dirt off my arm. ”I fell down a hill.”
He shakes his head and inches closer, eliminating some of the s.p.a.ce between us. ”I'm not talking about the dirt all over you.”
”Oh.” I glance down at the ribbon on my s.h.i.+rt-it's halfway undone. ”He took me up to the lake, jumped in the water, and got my necklace out my car at the bottom of the lake.”
Surprisingly, he's unfazed and takes another step toward me. ”And...”
”And then half the school showed up and I bailed. I started walking down the highway. A car swerved at me and I fell down a hill.”
He's a sliver of s.p.a.ce from me. ”A car swerved at you?”
I force the lump down in my throat. ”That's how I fell down the hill.”
”Did they do it on purpose?” he asks, aghast.
I shrug. ”It's hard to say, but maybe.”
He shuts his eyes, looking like he might cry. When he opens them back up, his pupils are dilated, only a slender ring of grey showing. He places his hands on the door, trapping me between his arms. ”Are you okay?” His eyes investigate my body for wounds, but every one of the cuts and bruises have already healed.
I nod, unable to look away from his eyes. ”I already told you I'm a walking miracle.”
His gaze flicks to my lips and his voice deepens to a growl. ”Did he kiss you?”
”Huh?”
”Cameron. Did he kiss you?”
My stomach somersaults and I lick my cracked lips. ”Do you really want to know the answer to that?”
He drags his tongue ring along the edge of his teeth. ”I need to know or else it will drive me crazy.”
”He kissed my neck,” I divulge truthfully.
”That's it?” His pierced eyebrow arches up. ”That's the only place he kissed you?”
I nod. ”That's the only place he kissed me.”
His breathing quickens and his eyes turn animalistic, the small amount of grey evaporating, so there's nothing but pupil left. ”Ember, can I kiss you?”
Why does he always ask first? I clutch the front of his s.h.i.+rt and yank him against my lips, delivering him my answer. His lips don't protest and he easily slips his tongue inside my mouth, bringing a sensation of warmth to every portion of my body. He lifts me up and my legs hook around his waist as he carries me to the bed. We fall together and my legs vice-grip around him. I feel alive and invigorated. Nothing exists at the moment but him and me.
My hands find the zipper of his jacket and I start to unzip it. He takes the hint, leaning up enough to shuck off his jacket and throw it across the room. He has a plaid s.h.i.+rt on underneath and I fumble to unb.u.t.ton it. But he catches my hand and ceases me.
”Are you sure you're okay?” he asks, breathless. ”You seem anxious.”
I undo another b.u.t.ton. ”I'm fine.”
”But I don't want us to move too fast,” he says as I unfasten a b.u.t.ton.
I pause, crushed with self-doubt. ”You don't want this?” Don't want me?”
”No, I want more than you're probably ready for.” He cups my cheek with his hand. ”That's why I think we should slow down.”
I blink up at him. ”Do you want to slow down?”
He shakes his head and laughs softly. ”I'm a guy, aren't I?”
”Then how about I tell you when it's too far.” My voice is jagged, but I maintain his gaze.
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