Ruined - Amy Tintera Page 0,87

brushed against her arm beneath the water as she untangled herself from him. She swam slowly, and Cas stayed next to her until they reached the riverbank. He grabbed onto his sword as he left the water, relieved it hadn’t been lost.

Her dress clung to every curve of her body as she walked out of the water, and he tried to avert his eyes, but he found it hard to focus on anything but her. She turned and met his gaze. Something in his expression must have given him away, because a blush crept up her cheeks.

She wouldn’t look at him like that if she didn’t have feelings for him. He was almost sure of it, but the tiny sliver of doubt made him want to scream.

“I think I need a moment to rest.” She clumsily plopped to the ground.

His anger disappeared almost as soon as it had come, leaving nothing but an ache in his chest. He wanted to scoop her into his arms and tell her everything would be fine.

“I’m going to see if there’s some fruit nearby,” he said, spinning on his heel so he wouldn’t have to look at her anymore. Was he really that pathetic? Was he really still harboring feelings for her, after all she’d done?

Yes. He definitely was.

Cas returned from the jungle with a few round yellow fruits. His cheeks and the bridge of his nose were a bit pink from the sun, and it made him even cuter, if that was possible. And he’d taken his shirt off and slung it over his shoulder. Em found herself staring at one particular drop of water making a journey from the base of his throat down the center of his chest. She watched as it rolled down, sliding across his skin and disappearing into the ridges of his abdominals. She had never wanted to be a drop of water so badly.

He cut open the fruit with his sword and handed it to her. They scooped out the sweet fruit with their fingers and ate it in silence.

He caught her staring and she quickly looked away. He wasn’t acting like he hated her anymore, and it was almost worse. It was easier not to stare at him, not to dream about his arms around her, when he was glaring at her like she was his worst enemy.

“Are you ready to get going?” she asked, getting to her feet. Her dress was still wet, but it kept her cool in the warm jungle, and she didn’t think she’d mind as the sun continued to rise. Cas put his shirt back on, though it had turned see-through when it got wet and didn’t hide much.

They trudged into the trees. Her body was heavy with hunger and exhaustion, and her pace was much slower than it had been the day before. Cas didn’t seem eager to go faster. He stayed right next to her, his gaze on the ground.

The sun rose higher in the sky, and she caught him watching her often. She recognized that he was working his way through something, trying to find the words, and she waited patiently.

Finally, he opened his mouth and asked a quiet question: “Why did you look so terrified on our wedding day?”

She couldn’t keep the surprise out of her voice. “What?”

“On our wedding day. You were terrified. I’d thought it was because Mary didn’t know me, because she was nervous about marrying a stranger. But you’d planned everything. Why were you nervous?”

She grasped her necklace tightly. “I was still marrying a stranger, even if I had orchestrated it all. I didn’t know how to act or what to say. I was terrified about that night, because I’ve never . . .”

“Oh.”

“Thank you for that, by the way. It was very nice of you not to assume I’d be ready to sleep with you right away.”

“You were a stranger as well, and I didn’t particularly look forward to my first time happening because my parents declared it.”

A smile tugged on her lips. “Good point.”

“Did you ever consider telling me who you really were?” he asked. “We talked about the Ruined often. You knew I had different opinions than my father. Did you ever consider what I would have done if you’d told me?”

“Every day,” she said quietly, immediately. “Especially after you tried to save Damian. I wondered what your reaction would be.”

“But you didn’t.”

“No.” She paused. “What would you have done?”

He pulled on his fingers, cracking the knuckles. “I don’t know.