Tirade (Heven and Hell #3)(53)
Author: Cambria Hebert

I had suspected, but now I knew.

He was bigger. He was always built well, with strong corded muscles, but now he was just big. His bare shoulders seemed to fill the tiny room. His hair had grown longer and the wet strands curled around his neck and fell over his forehead. Even his feet seemed larger as he stepped onto the tile floor.

He was wearing only a towel, slung low around his hips.

I swallowed. I should shower too.

He shook his head, slowly approaching me, and I held out a hand, laying it on his chest. His skin was warm and moist, causing a burst of butterflies to dance in my belly.

How long do we have? he asked.

I told Gran I was staying at Kimber’s. I wasn’t leaving here tonight. If I got caught in my lie, I’d just take the punishment.

All night?

I nodded.

My hand vibrated with whatever sound moved through his chest. He led me from the bathroom and the air out here was so much cooler against my skin that gooseflesh rose along my arms. He barely glanced around the room but went toward the bed with single-minded precision. When he stopped and turned, his eyes were heavy lidded and I wondered if he knew how badly my knees were shaking.

His palms cupped my face and tilted it upward. I dreamed of you.

I nodded. I dreamed of him too.

His kiss was as intoxicating as ever, melting my bones until he had to support me against his chest or else I would slip to the floor. I did notice something new, however. He had stubble on his jaw and chin. As he kissed me, it tickled and prickled against my skin. It was rough and sweet at the same time. His body seemed to tower over mine, wrapping around me until I was completely lost inside him, hoping I never found my way out. I knew then what else seemed different… I could no longer think of him as the boy I loved because he wasn’t a boy. He was a man. The changes I sensed in him weren’t external (besides his size); they were internal. And as he kissed me, I thought his size was larger, but it seemed even more so because of the way he carried himself.

I liked it.

I really liked it.

He pulled our lips apart and rested his forehead to mine. His chest rose and fell heavily as I reached up, threading my fingers through his hair. The slightly damp ends curled around my fingers, inviting me to stay. I sighed.

I felt his gaze and turned my eyes upward. I knew exactly what question he was asking me, though he never spoke a word. Slowly, I nodded. I dreamed of this moment so many times and I was sure this is what I wanted, but I was still nervous. I still felt awkward and unsure of myself.

Golden lightning streaked his eyes before he shut them. It reassured me that I could feel his hands shake as he held me. He’s nervous too. When he opened his eyes, the gold was gone, replaced by the liquid honey that I knew so well. He watched me as his fingers slowly found the hem of my shirt and slipped beneath to touch skin.

Heven…

Sam…

They were the last words we spoke for a long time.

*

Loud growling woke me. My eyes opened and for a moment I was unsure where I was. Then I remembered. Sam was back. I was in his bed, wrapped tightly in his arms. His stomach was growling like he hadn’t eaten in days.

Of course he hadn’t.

I did my best to slide from beneath his arms without waking him, but it was useless. He was up, gripping my arm like I was trying to escape. “I’m getting you some food,” I whispered, stroking his hand.

His grip lightened instantly as his hand slid down into mine. Butterflies danced beneath my ribcage. I wondered what it would be like after. If I would be different, feel different. I wondered if Sam would be different. Shyly, I looked over my shoulder at him. A stray blond strand fell over my eye and I was partially glad for the extra concealment. Sam smiled and leaned up onto one elbow and brushed the hair away. The way he stared at me made my cheeks grow warm and I glanced away, down at our clasped hands.

“I love you,” he said, his voice sounding foreign to my ears since he’d spoken to me with his mind up until now.

Some of the butterflies settled down but didn’t go away. “I love you too.”

He stared at me for a few more short moments before his stomach growled again and he grinned. I got up to pull on one of his shirts, smiling when the fabric reached my knees and turned toward the kitchen. Behind me, Sam pulled on some shorts then caught my hand so we went together over to the fridge.

“I put a pizza in here,” I said, reaching in and pulling out a large cardboard box. The room was completely dark. I had no clue what time it was, and the light from the fridge made me blink. I was about to offer to heat it when he opened the lid, took out a huge slice and stuffed half of it in his mouth. I giggled and pulled away from him to place the pizza on the counter and get some napkins.

“Come back here,” he said around a mouthful of cheese and pepperoni then wrapped his arm around my waist, towing me into his side. A slice appeared before me and I opened my mouth to take a bite. We stood together in the darkened kitchen, eating cold pizza together, and laughing.

Is this all? I asked myself. Was our after to be exactly as before? But it wasn’t really exactly as before. I felt a little unsure of myself, unsure of how he felt.

Sam pulled away, opened the fridge and leaned in, palming two sodas. I gasped. He spun swiftly one of the sodas falling to the floor and rolling away. “What?” His eyes roamed all the shadows of the room.

“Your back,” I started. “It’s… What happened?”

He grimaced and bent to pick up the lost soda. “Nothing.”

It wasn’t nothing. There were puckered scars crisscrossing his back. Images of blood flashed into my mind. Sam’s blood and the way it looked on the floor of his cell. So this is where it came from. It looked like he had been whipped.

“Sam.” I rushed forward. How had I not noticed until now? I walked around him to see his back and opened the fridge door for the light. “Oh, Sam.” I sighed, taking in the wide scars.

“I’m all right,” he said, spinning and closing the door. His arms wound around my waist and he pressed my cheek to his chest. “That tea of Ana’s completely healed them.”

“I’m so sorry.” I remembered when I woke up with the pain echoing through my body, positive something was happening to him. Seeing the scars, the reminders of that pain… It was horrible.

“Don’t be sorry. Not tonight.”

I lifted my face to stare up at him. “I’m not sorry about that.”

The corner of his mouth turned up. “No?”

“No. Are you?” Dread settled in my chest; it was heavy. Was I not what he thought I’d be?