no longer even affected me, because I didn’t lead my life that way.
A few dropped words, the mention of my past and my family, and he set about studying me like I was a book report.
To say I was touched was an understatement. Heck, this entire thing touched me, truth be told. And when, as we left the center later on, he curved his arm around me as he guided me over to where his bike was locked up, it felt oddly right to be so close to him.
We were strangers, but we weren’t.
Something about us had known the other since the beginning of time itself.
There was a peace in knowing that. A restfulness that made me feel like my part to play in this world had come about because I’d finally met him.
It was like day one at a new school. Suddenly, nothing else mattered except for the next steps you took, the next first impressions you made. Only, we didn’t need to worry about foolish things like that. We just had to learn one another.
The center was about a twenty-minute walk from my school, and his too—only in the opposite direction.
When we made it to the road, he hovered, his bike at his side as he muttered, “I don’t like leaving you here.”
“I’m fine,” I replied, amused. And I was fine. No one noticed me. Plus, I knew how to look after myself.
Nanny might have looked fragile, but she didn’t act like it. And her daddy? He had been a bare knuckle boxing champ, so she had a wicked right hook—something she’d passed onto me.
But mostly, I liked that he cared. He cared enough to be concerned about me.
I hadn’t experienced that since Nanny.
I reached over and pressed my hand to his chest. I wanted to tell him things that I couldn’t share with him yet, wanted to speak words that might concern him, so I kept myself contained. It was hard. I had a fountain bubbling away inside me, and I had to control the outpouring, otherwise I’d either come across as too strong or just weird.
I wasn’t sure I’d be able to stand it if Adam thought those things about me.
I was used to being considered strange. Even though I tried to fit in, some of the stuff I did, my little rituals, caused attention and set me apart. Adam’s opinion mattered. More than I knew how to deal with yet.
I pressed the tips of my fingers into his chest and murmured, “I’ll look forward to tomorrow.”
His smile was warm. “Me too.”
He dipped forward, and for a second, I froze, thinking he wanted a kiss. I wasn’t sure whether I was ready for that, but he was mine, so why wouldn’t I be ready? Except my nerves were for nothing because he didn’t lean in for a kiss. He wrapped his arms around me, hugging me tight, surrounding me in him, and it was wonderful.
Better than the water.
I released a soft breath as he squeezed me, and I, unable to stop myself, squeezed him back.
Tighter.
God, his arms were strong, his hold incredible. But his embrace was like heaven.
My eyes even stung from the emotions pricking me as I recognized what it felt like to be in my man’s arms.
“I don’t want to leave you,” he repeated, and I knew the words were ones he struggled with.
He was normal. He didn’t understand my family, my past, this gift we’d been given. How could he?
Even I didn’t.
So much had been lost when Nanny died, and I’d ignored most of it, refusing to embrace my heritage because it caused me too much pain and made me so different than the families I had to live with. Being with Adam was like opening the floodgates, and I was being inundated. The only thing that made it bearable was him.
I gulped and, taking a chance, whispered, “I’ll miss you.”
He sighed, and it was redolent with relief. “I’m so glad I’m not alone in this.”
“You’re not,” I told him softly. “I promise.”
He sighed again. “Good.” I felt his nose rub down my cheek, and he pressed a gentle kiss to the line of my jaw. It was an odd place to kiss, but it felt right, and where his lips touched, my skin tingled with sensation.
“Have a good day,” I murmured, finally pulling back. It hurt to break the union, but I knew we couldn’t just stand here all day.
“You too.” His brow puckered. “I don’t like that you don’t have a