Page 11 of Absolution

Four

Kerry

I don’t know why he’s being such an ass again. I was only trying to help. My stomach is in a tight knot from the tension of having to cut into his wound and then the charged afterplay. There was something in his gaze that I recognize all too well. I’ve seen it before. I’ve lived through the consequences. They were spectacular, and devastating.

Those nights when he came to me, the hunger, the possessive look in his eyes – the memory will never leave me. It still makes my gut clench with want.

I’m utterly thankful when Cece wakes up and gives me something to occupy my body and mind with. Except my mind isn’t where my body is. I can’t help thinking about his heated skin, the glint in his warm brown eyes, and about what the hell he’s doing in my bathroom for so long.

I almost jump out of my skin when the door finally opens. I’m feeding Cecilia an apple I’ve cut into slices and I’m thankful to keep her between us.

There are new, clean strips covering the wound, and apart from that he’s naked from the waist up. My eyes are inadvertently drawn to the thick string of dark hair that continues along his stomach and then disappears beneath the waistband of his pants. My dad’s pants, but damn, they look good, hanging low on Christian’s hips. He gives me an unreadable glance and slowly pulls the flannel shirt back on, leaving it unbuttoned. I avert my gaze. I do not want to look at this man’s naked chest. It does things to me, makes me ache in all the wrong places. I have to remember what he is, what he’s done. I fell for him once, so hard, but that was before I knew him.

Instead of coming to the couch where we sit, he walks to my bedroom and closes the door behind him.

I’m up and off of the couch the same moment the door clicks closed. No way! I grab the apple slices and put them on the counter, well out of her reach. Tossing Cecilia a doll, I then dash through the room and rip open the door.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He’s lying on my bed. He’s lying on my bed! His shirt is still unbuttoned, and I stop flat. “Get out!”

He lies with his hand behind his head, glancing lazily at me, his cheeks slightly flushed. “I just had to get you alone for a second.”

“W—why?”

“Come here.” He crooks a finger and bids me closer. I take a hesitant step toward him.

“What?”

Gripping my wrist, he pulls me to him. His hand is warm, strong, and dry. “Please just sit.”

Against my better judgement I hesitantly sit on the very edge of the bed.

“I was a prick. I admit. I just felt for a moment there was something there… Something more.” His voice falters.

My heart makes an unhealthy jump. There was. There is. How can I ever get out of this spell?

“Look,” I say and swallow hard, my thoughts a tangled mess. “I guess we can be moderately civilized as it is, being stuck under the same roof and all…” I squirm and adjust a little on the uncomfortable wooden edge of the bed. “But something more… I think you misunderstood, Christian.”

He still holds my wrist, and I haven’t pulled away. Why haven’t I pulled away? I look him over, wishing things were different, wishing I could lay my head on his chest, listen to his heartbeat, his breathing, feel his warmth. I have missed him so much, despite everything. It’s not rational, and I don’t know if it will ever go away.

“I get that now,” he says tiredly. “I know what you’re about to say, but can I please sleep for an hour on your bed? I’m so, so tired.”

Please again.

I exhale erratically, my skin scorched from his touch. “Fine. But in an hour, I’ll throw you out.”

He smiles, then pulls me toward him, lifts his head slightly and places a featherlight kiss on the back of my hand. “Thank you.”

I jerk my hand out of his grip, jumping up from my sitting position.

He has closed his eyes. “Too much?” he mumbles.

I don’t answer and slam the door shut behind me. Yes, too much. But it’s not his fault. I’m the one who has lost their mind!

Cece has lost interest in the doll and is playing with a jigsaw puzzle on the floor, slamming the large pieces of wood against each other. Something is different. I rub the back of my hand again and look around me. I don’t know wha—

It’s quiet outside. The storm is over.

The symbolism doesn’t pass me unnoticed. It’s over outside. I believe it’s over inside too.

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