Page 22 of Clubs

“I’m sorry for that too,” I said. “I love you. I love you a whole hell of a lot. And I promise I won’t call you a bitch again.”

Letting out a deep breath, she gestured inside. “You better. And you better not.”

There it was again. Anything but, “I love you.” In this case it made sense, but I would try again later once the fire had burned out some more.

* * *

Throughout the evening, we caught up on what information the other had gathered. Unfortunately, according to Brooke’s research, Alicia had never married, so she certainly wasn’t in my records.

But Brooke let me pay her back, and we talked on the couch, and we watched some TV, and we ate the Chinese food, and she accepted the crumpled flowers, and we laughed, and we smiled, and we fell asleep in each other’s arms, cozy in her bed.

While I dozed, I remembered why—despite the bickering, despite the drama—we were here. Because holding her was the most comfortable place I’d ever been. Hearing her breath, filling my lungs with the scent of her hair, feeling each pump of her heart against my skin, was the best place in the world. The best place in any world. I knew we were fucked up. Both of us. I had my issues—mainly my attitude—and she had hers.

I wasn’t with her because she was my soulmate. I hadn’t fallen for her because she was my soulmate. Whatever the fuck that even meant. I chose her. Every day, every bicker, even when she made me walk home, I chose her. Because something about us just made sense. Something about her, about me and her, just felt right. Maybe it had more to do with that soulmate thing than we realized. But maybe it didn’t.

Maybe I liked that she never said I love you. Maybe I liked that she was damaged.

Such a stupid word. As if she was broken.

She wasn’t. Maybe she had been once, but she had put herself back together. Maybe all of this, her attitude and the way it clashed with mine, was why I loved her. Maybe I loved all the reasons I hated her. She was cold, distant, but when she was curled against my chest, she was the warmest place I’d ever been.

Maybe it was the friction. I loved that she was strong, determined, that she didn’t put up with my shit. I would’ve loved her if she even more if she would put her walls down for me every once in a while. But fucking hell, I loved that those strong walls protected her from everything. Even if she still feared I was someone she had to protect her heart from.

CHAPTER SEVEN

BROOKE

Cool wind bit through the fabric of my clothes, but the heat of his body pressed against mine was the perfect counterbalance. Something hard, rough, scraped against my back, even through my clothes. With every gentle rock of his hips against mine, it scratched, but I didn’t mind.

Didn’t mind in the slightest.

As his lips traveled down my jaw, I rolled my head back. It was only then that I realized I was pinned against a tree. That’s what was scraping my back. Its bark. A pine tree, to be exact. A pine tree with black needles. At first, I thought they were green, and it was only the dark night that distorted their color, but that couldn’t be so. After all, the light coming from the moon wasn’t its usual blue. It was red.

Finding it among the stars, gazing up at it as he kissed my neck, making me gasp, I stared up at those twinkling lights in wonder.

Everything about this moment felt electric already, almost as if there was some imaginary energy budding between us that no one else could feel, no one else could see.

I knew what love was. I’d felt it before. But I had never felt this before, not even in my current life.

The warmth of his body, the tenderness of his touch, and all the passion that held it together was unlike anything. Nothing compared to this. Not even Declan, and I wasn’t sure why that was.

As his lips trailed further south, so did his fingers. They skimmed down the back of my thighs, making me gasp. That gasp only intensified, morphing into a moan, when he hoisted me around his waist and peeled back the fabric of my shirt to reach my breast. His lips circled around my nipple, only teasing at first, then moving faster and faster.

Never in my life had I felt something like this. So intense, so warm, so soothing. Maybe an awkward word choice given the situation, but that was the only word I could think of. It didn’t feel rough, violent. It was erotic and arousing, of course, but somehow safe.

At least, to her, it was.

This wasn’t a dream. The blue planet framed in yellow rings that came into view when I coiled further back was proof of that.

I’d seen that before in another memory. In that one, though, I was running, and my heart was racing, and I was so afraid. So afraid, until the man before me, the same one who was licking my nipple now, had stopped me with his wall of his chest, only to yank me into a nearby bush.

I still didn’t understand that memory. I wondered if I ever would. This one, though, I understood completely. It was our first time. That’s why it felt so intense. It may have been my first time altogether, given how satisfying I found that flick of his tongue on my nipple. Not that I minded that at any point, but it rarely did for me what it was doing now.

Tugging my top further down, his lips trailed to my other breast. It wasn’t a gasp this time, but a moan. A deep, rumbling sound that echoed off the red, moonlit forest.

“Ds’s da?” someone called. Who’s there?

I couldn’t begin to describe how, but somehow, those words automatically registered in my mind. I’d yet to attempt speaking this language aloud, but I knew it. Somehow, someway, I knew this language, and I understood every word that was spoken in each of these memories, each of these visions, even if the language was long dead by now.

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