Page 96 of Into the Light

“You okay?”

“Just a little sore,” she mumbled before grabbing some soap and rubbing it all over her and then jumping out. I hurried, too, so I could follow her.

“I am so tired,” she mumbled before throwing on one of my shirts that I left tucked in the corner of the bathroom since she liked to wear them after she got out of the hot shower. She always took a shower before bed, claiming she hated to get into her bed feeling dirty from the day. She also liked the warmth of the shower and savoring each second in the humid air, so she liked putting on her pajamas inside the bathroom instead of going to her room.

It was the little things that I’d learned about her over the last few months. Things I pieced together that added to the entire picture of who she was.

She hobbled over to the bed before collapsing.

“So. Tired.” She rolled over and grabbed the sheets before escaping into a deep slumber.

This was what I would love about our future—Ember would always be there at the end of the day. I’d get to fuck her all I wanted, feed her, cherish her like the damned queen she was.

Porque ella no era una princesa, era mi reina. And I was a humble servant to her kingdom, bowing down to my true ruler.

I tucked in next to her as I pulled the covers tightly over her.

“Turn around,” I instructed, and she mumbled something that made little sense in her sleep-induced postcoital haze, but obliged by shifting her body to the other side. I lifted the shirt and slowly warmed up the lotion I found in her bathroom in my hands before running it over the parts that I’d slapped earlier.

“Mm-hm,” she groaned out in pleasure. “That feels good. Thank you.”

The smile that came afterward nourished me. It fed my soul. Because hearing her breath inside our bed, watching her want me, care for me, was something I wished I could write about. But between the words, the emotion that came out of the quiet moments were more powerful than all the ways I could describe how and why I loved Ember.

“I love you,” I whispered before pulling her back tightly to my chest. I gave her a kiss by the shell of her ear as she murmured in pleasure.

“I love you, so much. Thank you for being there for me.”

Chapter thirty-three

The next afternoon, I was so fucking nervous because while everything went according to plan and Mr. Ortiz was on his way here to meet at the diner, I knew confronting him was going to ultimately change the way our entire life would be—the map of my present and future.

“Does this look okay?” I fussed with the sweater, annoyed with how itchy it felt against my skin.

We were standing in Ember’s apartment in Isles, but she’d packed a lot of my stuff in boxes already, getting ready to move to the house in the countryside after graduation. I was standing in her little bedroom staring at the floor-to-ceiling mirror in the corner.

“Just wear a shirt, Rain. This looks so uncomfortable,” Ember said sweetly as she pulled on one of her dresses and a blazer, opting to look more professional for this meeting, claiming that it gave her more of a leg to stand on.

“I want to look like you.” I gestured to what she was wearing before she laughed, walking out of the room.

“It’s not you. Just be you,” she encouraged. I fumbled with the sleeves of the sweater, ultimately deciding she was right and taking it off, replacing it with one of my long-sleeve black shirts.

I came out of the bedroom before she shoved a piece of toast in her mouth.

“SeeItoldyou,” she said with food in her mouth.

“Chew your food,” I grumbled before she flipped me the bird. I laughed in her wake, grabbing the envelope and the letters along with a copy of Ash’s will that I had the lawyer fax over with his signature on the bottom, confirming it was all legitimate. I also had bank information on Ember’s account on it.

“Why did you and your brother decide the diner was the best place to meet?” I asked again.

“I told you. He rented the whole thing out. It is on the very edge of town and in neutral territory.”

“The irony.” I interjected, and she huffed.

“You ready?” I asked her, grabbing the bag with all the documents and our helmets.

“Wait. One thing,” she said, disappearing back into the bedroom.

“We’re going to be late,” I called out, looking at the clock as it counted down the hours to three. I knew I was being an asshole, but my shaky leg told me that my anxiety was taking over. I didn’t want to go into a panic attack again, so I did exactly what my therapist suggested.

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