The Girl Who Fell(59)
No. Yes. I know only one thing. “I don’t want anyone else.”
“I want to believe that, but how can you be sure?”
“It’s the only thing I do know. I love you.” My heart waits to beat, braces for rejection.
But he doesn’t reject me. He moves his mouth onto mine and our tongues meet with the fury of regretted absence. His hand slips to the scoop of my neck, and his thumb dips over my bra, wakes the skin around my heart. My body lights to the heat of his touch and the promise of more.
I pull away, whisper, “Get a pass for the bathroom. Meet me at my car. Upper lot.”
“How are you getting excused?”
“I’m not even here as far as Sudbury’s concerned. I just came to kidnap you.”
“Why does that totally turn me on?”
I stand, pull down on the hem of my skirt. “Come on.”
He runs his fingers through his hair, gets up and walks to the librarian’s desk. He requests a pass and it is done.
I take a deep breath, proud for staying true to my plan, prouder still for not blushing during its execution. I pull on my coat and leave through the rear door, disappearing into the empty hallways and out to the upper parking lot where my trusty Volvo still holds heat.
Within minutes, Alec jumps in the car joined by a burst of frozen wind. “Does it count as kidnapping if I come willingly?”
I thrust the Volvo in gear. “Technically, no, but it’s a minor detail.”
“Well, your proposition was better than anything the library could offer. Where are you taking me?”
“My house.”
“Then please, drive on.” Alec lowers his head onto my lap and trails my thigh with a thousand bird kisses. I fight to focus.
When we arrive at my house I’m relieved the locked door buys me time. Turns out, I hadn’t fully thought through the protocols for taking Alec back to my place.
“Can you get the key?” I point to the fake rock that sits inside the urn of pine boughs.
He hands me the ring. “High tech.”
I laugh, open the door while Alec returns our security system to its not-so-incognito existence.
In the kitchen, I can’t locate the bold feeling I had in the library. “Do you want something to drink?”
“No. That’s not what I want.” He peels my coat from my shoulders, then his hand slips into mine and he leads me to my bedroom. He closes the door behind us.
Alec plops onto my bed, folds his hands behind his head. “Stay there. I want to look at you.”
My blush returns but I obey him for the endless minutes he gathers my bits into memory.
“So what’s all this talk about an apology?”
“I made you a promise and I broke it. I shouldn’t have gone over to Gregg’s without telling you.”
“That’s a start. Now unzip the back of your dress.”
“I’m sorry?”
“This is how I think this should work. Every time you make a compelling argument for my forgiveness, that unnecessary dress should get closer to the floor.”
“So you’re making the rules in my apology?”
He teases a smile. “I’m trying to restore trust between us, Zephyr.”
I laugh. “Oh, is that what you’re doing?”
“I hope so, yeah.”
And isn’t that what I want? His trust. Restored. I reach my fingers to the zipper along the back. I notch down the metal teeth slowly, air painting my skin with its invisible bristles. I stop at the base of my spine. The top of the dress loosens, the fabric bunches with the release.
“Now. What else?”
“I promise I’ll always be honest with you. I don’t ever want to fight with you.”
“I don’t want to fight either. I never want that, Zephyr.” I pull my arms free of the fabric and stand before him in my new crimson bra. Alec stands quickly, gathers me to him.
“I’ll do anything to make it up to you.”
“You have, believe me. This is huge. What you were willing to do for me.” He kisses me so softly then. He steps back, pulls off his shirt. The muscles in his stomach ripple and I feel a hunger inside. He pulls me in tight and we press our bodies against each other. “Trust goes both ways.”
He lowers me to my bed and gathers me in his arms. I feel his hardness and my breath darts.
His fingers trail down to my hip and the fold of dress that rests there. My skin rises to his touch. “It killed me, you know. Not calling you.”
“It killed me. Not hearing from you.”
“It won’t happen again. I don’t want to be that guy.”
“What guy?”
“You know how I told you my father’s pretty much always gone?” I nod. He continues. “What I didn’t tell you was how my mom constantly accused him of cheating. I don’t think she ever trusted him. And I think my father probably is cheating. In fact, it wouldn’t shock me to discover he has a whole other family. That’s how crazy things are between them. But the craziest thing is that I think he cheated because my mom was always riding him about it. I think one day he figured, why not, you know, I’m catching shit for it anyway.”