Page 41 of A Bond with the Dark

“Uh,” I mumble, looking around. “I don’t know how we got here,” I tell him honestly.

I didn’t drink any alcohol.

“You fainted. I carried you here. Are you sure you’re all right?”

Panic sets my limbs on fire at the word faint.

The fear that the leukemia will come back is a constant dread that lingers in the back of my mind. I felt fine the entire night, so the fact that I fainted is worrisome.

“Hey,” he whispers, turning my chin to look at him. “You’re okay. You must have just eaten something that didn’t agree with you.”

“Yeah, well, I’m always worried about the cancer coming back. What if it was a symptom of that?”

“Oh, darling, don’t you worry about that. I’m sure you’re just fine.”

Looking into his eyes, I believe him. Something strange in his hazel irises seeps into me, comforting me, making the worry melt away. At the same time, it’s edged with being tangled like an uneasy comfort. There’s still a bit of dizziness, not understanding why I shouldn’t be worried, but I’m not anymore. Now I’m just tired, and there’s a haze around my consciousness as if I had drunk twelve tequila shots, although I hadn’t.

“Come on, I’ll take you home.”

When we return to my house, I let him open my car door and take his hand as he offers it.

He walks me to the stoop, where we stop in the pale light of the porch.

“I had a really good time tonight,” he says softly, sliding his arms around my waist and pulling me to him.

Still foggy from the night’s end, I let him and put my arms around his neck. “I did, too. Thank you for dinner.”

“You are most welcome.”

His face inches toward mine, and my heart thunders in my chest. I lick my lips right before he reaches them.

It is the sweetest, most subtle kiss that I have ever felt. Like ice on a summer’s day, I melt into his arms. At first, he lightly brushes my lips with his. And then, he parts them, inviting me to taste his mouth. I do, and as I lick his tongue with mine, my blood rushes thick to the very surface of me, and I teeter on some edge I didn’t know existed until this moment.

His breathing becomes heavier, and he pulls away just when I think I’ll burst from emotions. His brows are pinched together like it pained him to kiss me, and his eyes have taken an almost white hue. He turns his head from me, hiding his face, and I’m embarrassed and confused.

Does my breath stink?

“I’m sorry,” he utters, his head still turned from me. “I just . . .”

“No. It’s okay. I understand,” I say, beginning to leave him and go inside.

“No, wait,” he states, grabbing my hand. When I turn back around, his eyes are back to normal. “I’m sorry, it’s just…. I’m finding resisting you harder than I thought it would be.”

“To resist me?” I question. The fogginess from the night returns, and I feel like I’m lost in a dark field, trying to find my way back home.

“You’re incredibly sexy. You’re smart, intriguing, strong . . . enchanting. Honestly, you’re everything I’ve been looking for in a woman for a long time. My adrenaline got the best of me, and I felt that if I didn’t stop kissing you now, I’m likely to tear your clothes off of you and take you here on this porch.”

It’s a very alluring thought.

“And,” he expands, “I know that I won't be your first of anything, but you're the kind of person I'd want to be my last of everything.”

The words hang in the air and pierce every inch of me. I know that I find him attractive, and there’s something about him that calls to me, that draws me in and makes me want to stay, but I don’t know if he’sthe one.

“I see,” I reply, the words lost on me like rain in a waterfall.

“AndI’ve said too much,” he answers, hanging his head in embarrassment, stepping down from the porch.

“No, wait,” I say, taking my turn to pull him back. “I’m sorry. You just caught me off guard with that. It’s our first date, and I didn’t know how to respond.”

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