When Darkness Ends (Moments in Boston #3) - Marni Mann Page 0,40

across my kitchen table and strip off her clothes.

Except from the moment she had walked in, wearing jeans that hugged her gorgeous legs and a tight white tank that showed the tops of her perfect tits, I couldn’t stop thinking about what I wanted to do to her.

“Yeah? Well, I’ve read the same paragraph six times,” I admitted.

She chewed the end of her pencil. “You have an exam tomorrow that’s going to be painfully difficult if you don’t know the material.”

“So is sitting this far away from you.”

She laid the book flat and reached across the space between us, the warmth of her hand landing on mine. “Is this better?”

“No.”

She smiled, shaking her head. “You’re insatiable.”

“And you love that about me.”

Her smile reached her blue eyes, a blush coming through her cheeks as she glanced down to start reading again. I tried doing the same, but the paragraph was a blur, the words not sinking in, the thought of spending one more second with Organic Chemistry fucking torturous.

It wasn’t as though it had been days since I’d seen her. Dylan and I, along with a few friends, had gone to the bar while she was working on her birthday. We sat in her section. She’d kept the drinks coming, and I’d made sure the boys gave her a whopping tip at last call. And we’d napped at my place a few days ago, and this was our third study session at the library.

But it wasn’t enough.

I needed more time alone with my girl.

“When can I get you to stay at my place again?”

She glanced up, still teasing her lips, but she paused to bite the eraser. “Tomorrow night, I’m all yours.”

“I like the sound of that.”

She leaned in closer, like she was about to tell me a secret. “I’ll even make breakfast in the morning.”

“Now, that’s dangerous.”

She laughed, a sound almost like a wind chime, one that I wanted to hear every day. “I’m glad you liked what I made, but bacon and eggs are super easy. I fear you’re giving me a little too much credit.”

“The last time I made scrambled eggs, they still had half the shells.”

Her eyes went wide as she tried to hold in her giggle. “Then, I’d say I’m practically a chef.”

I was quiet for a moment, watching this wonderful girl across from me. “Tell me something, Pearl …” I’d certainly learned a lot more about her—foods she hadn’t tried, places she wanted to visit, her intricate relationship with Gran. There was still so much to discover, many questions that hadn’t been answered and this was one. “If you could do anything on a day off, what would it be?”

The sweater she wore over the tank top was hanging at her sides, and she crossed it over her chest. “I would travel, but that really isn’t possible with Gran, and I definitely don’t have the funds.”

“What’s your next choice?”

Even though she was looking at me, her mind was suddenly in a different place—I could tell from her expression, the way she was zoning out, like she was digging through her thoughts. “I would go sledding.”

“Really?”

She nodded. “I’ve only been once.” Her voice quieted, the pain building in her eyes. “It’s one of the only good memories I have of Vanessa.”

I didn’t know anyone who called their mother by her first name. Whatever Pearl’s reasoning was, it had to be dark.

I crossed my arms on top of my textbook and said, “Tell me about it.”

She took several breaths, holding the sweater tightly across her as she started, “I was young—around five, maybe six. We were living with her boyfriend at the time in some run-down slum.” She paused, and I could sense her going back there and that it was a place she didn’t like to revisit.

“He’d stolen a set of tires the night before—he was going to pawn them for drugs—and I was on the floor, playing with one. I shouldn’t have been—it was big and heavy and could have hurt me—but there was nothing else that was safe to play with. And it was late. I should have been asleep hours before, but it had just begun to snow, and it was the first snowfall of the new year.”

I glanced at the window behind her head; the flakes coming down outside were sticking to the glass. I was sure she noticed the same thing happening behind me.

“Vanessa was on a happy drug that night instead of the heroin that made her nod out, and