had darkened because of the twilight-tinged rain…
“Shit.” I hiss it slowly through my teeth. It’s not the damn rain.
“Do not be upset,” she counters. “I was concerned. I did not know where you were or what you were doing. Your mother—”
“Just took it upon herself to spill the once-upon-a-time about Damon?”
“Since she thought it might explain why you drove your fist through a glass door instead of talking to me about it?” She jerks up, taking a swath of the sheet with her. “Then your answer is yes, Cassian—she thought ‘spilling’ was likely a good call.”
I push up as well. Jack my head against the headboard, elevating my sight line enough to glare down my nose. “So you two had a nice little ‘girl chat’ about it all?”
Her nostrils flare. “‘It all?’” She pulls up higher, canceling my advantage—which wasn’t working anyway. “I did not share that you had left me naked and dazed in the very spot in which you just fucked me, if that is your insinuation.” Yeah; really not working. “I did tell her that I was confused and concerned—and knew you were hurting because of something beyond what happened to Lily and your baby.”
She concludes it with a rough breath, seeming to comprehend what a fucked-up mess it all is, now gathered together and spoken aloud. Her ire gives way to a stare that nearly implores—and impacts me like a hydrogen bomb. With just as blinding a force, it explodes—and rains self-incrimination on me.
“Dammit, Ella.” I reach for her. Not necessary. She’s already on her way, face softening right before her body does, molding back against me…bringing the sun again.
“I’m sorry,” I mutter into her hair. “You shouldn’t have had to hear it from my mother.”
She sighs against my chest. “But it is her story to tell too.”
“Not if it rips her apart to tell it.” I tug on her leg, fitting her tighter to me, and thank her for it by running soft fingertips along the crest of her thigh. “Having to talk about the loss of one’s child…” Before I can help it, my hand stops. My fingers claw into her skin, directly proportionate to the sting behind both eyes. “Ah. Fuck.”
“Ssshhh.” Her own fingers curl into my hair. Yank down my head until she can press my lips to the soft, warm comfort of hers. “Sssshhh. You have already been through that fire, all right?” Her fingers trace the tops of my eyebrows. “Is it any wonder you did not wish to do it a second time in the same night?”
I jerk back by a couple of inches. Palm the firm curve of her nape. “So you get it? I’m forgiven?”
“There is nothing to forgive, Cassian.” Her tawny brows hunch in. “Your psyche tipped to overload and you reacted the only way you have ever given yourself permission to, probably since the day Damon died. You ran and hid, then lashed out at something inanimate and painful.” The brows arch up as she tips her head, gaze so clear it’s like getting sliced by a pair of blue diamonds. “I wager there are still a few walls at your school and old apartments bearing a certain boy’s fist imprint.”
“Well, shit.”
I grumble it after searching her stare again…truly wondering about the cutting diamonds. At the same time, she sets free a soft giggle.
“I am that right with the honey?”
“Right on the money.” I yank her in for a quick kiss. “But yeah, you—shit.” It bears repeating. Big time. “You didn’t tell Mom that part, did you?”
Her lips purse. “Only because I did not connect it until now.”
“Good.”
“She is your mother, Cassian. She likely knows.”
I scowl harder. “You’re probably right…dammit.”
She soothes me with another small kiss—though the buss isn’t enough. I spread my fingers into her hair while wrapping my bandaged hand around her waist, tangling our tongues and lips into deeper, hotter connection, before descending back to the pillows with her in tow. As the rain falls harder, we kiss and devour, taste and lick, adore and appreciate, until there’s no air and we end up breathing the essence of each other…
The only air I need.
Several mind-blowing minutes later, she drags up and away, her lower lip caught beneath a smile that says she clearly questions her sanity in letting me go for even a few inches. I grin back, arrogant as fuck about the observation. And humble as hell.
A nuance that does not go unnoticed by her.
Tracing a deceptively casual line down the