Page 181 of Edge of Unbroken

Back in my room, Ronan is standing in the same spot I left him in. He looks exhausted, his shoulders heavy, eyes directed at the floor. I wouldn’t be surprised if he fell asleep standing up. What a day.

He doesn’t look at me when he speaks. “So, now you know.”

“Now I know.” I step a little closer to him. “And it changes nothing about my feelings for you.”

His eyes lift to mine.

“I love you. I’ve always loved you, and nothing and no one will change that,” I say. “I wish I could undo everything your mom did to you.” I brush my lips against his. “You’re so smart,” I say against his lips, and kiss him again. “And kind.” I kiss him again. “And funny.” I place another kiss on his lips. “You deserve love, sweet boy,” I whisper in between more kisses. “You’re everything to me.”

I deepen my kiss, parting my lips so I can taste more of him, moving my hands carefully under his shirt, feeling the warmth and softness of his bare skin while I graze it. All I want right now is to blanket him with love.

Ronan

I’m drained—emotionally, physically—but when we finally left court, I didn’t want sleep or food. I wanted Cat. No, IneededCat. I had to see her, even if she didn’t want to see me. I had to know what damage was done today. How much the truth broke the best thing I ever had.

When my dad pulled up to the house, I told him I was going for a walk, got out of the car without another word, and trudged through the pouring rain to Cat’s house.

The rain felt good, like it was washing away the past.

The moment I laid eyes on Cat, everything eased like it always does when I’m with her. She instinctively moved toward me. She didn’t recoil; her eyes reflected nothing but love. I pulled her into my arms, needing to feel her against me like her touch can erase all the bad from my world, which I swear it does. Magic. Medicine.

I never wanted her to know about the abuse, didn’t want her to hear all the little and not-so-little things my mom did to hurt me. I didn’t want her to know how incapable I was of withstanding her, of being enough, of remaining strong. I didn’t want Cat to see the surveillance, didn’t want her to know that my mom used my feelings for Cat to create more self-doubt, more pain, more worry. I didn’t want anyone to know, see, or hear. Not Cat, not Steve, not Shane or any of my friends. But they all insisted on being there, on sitting through the hours of painful testimony, and I was worried about what it would do. They’ve already had to sacrifice so much. I don’t want things to change, don’t want them to realize I’m not enough, could never be enough. I need them. I can’t make it in this life without them.

But Cat doesn’t reject me or look at me differently than she did before I laid myself bare. Quite the opposite. Her voice, her touch, her kisses relay nothing but love. I feel the weight lift, feel it fall off me the moment she says, “I love you.” And there’s nothing else either of us need to say; our bodies do all the talking, despite my physical exhaustion.

Cat takes the lead, her fingers gently caressing my skin, and my eyes shut at her touch. My head dips down when she softly glides her hand up and down my neck and back. I could lose myself to her, relaxing under her warm strokes over my skin. She slowly moves her hand underneath my shirt, outlining the ridges of my abs, traveling up to my chest. Her fingers cause goosebumps to travel up and down my back, and my breathing picks up as she kisses my lips softly. Everything about her is perfection, and I think she’s purposely moving slowly, gently, as her fingers lightly trace each scar my mother’s violence has left on my body like a map, a timeline of the abuse.

“I love you,” she breathes against my skin again and again, like she wants to make sure the words sink in, wants to make sure I understand how loved I am.

She pushes my shirt up. I lift my arms, letting her pull it off me before she takes my face into her hands, angles it down, and kisses the scar under my left eye, moving her lips back to my mouth, then down my jaw to my neck. My heart hammers against my ribs as she continues to feather her lips against my skin onto my shoulder, then my chest. She pauses her delicate kisses for a moment to take off her own shirt. I watch as she undoes her bra and lets it fall to her feet before pressing her warm, soft body to my heaving chest. No matter how often I see Cat naked, I can never get enough. She’s absolute perfection—her skin silky, curves soft, her stomach and legs toned. I reach for her, letting my hands rest on her hips while she continues caressing and kissing my heated skin. I can’t remember ever being touched like this before, so softly, purposefully, like her only care is that it feels good to me. And, god, does it feel good.

She undresses us slowly, carefully, while peppering my needy skin with soft kisses, gliding her tongue along the striations of my flexed muscles, and it’s all I can do to keep my eyes from shutting with the gentleness of her touch. I swear, anytime I’m with this girl, nothing—and I meannothing—else matters.

As much as the intimacy of her touch turns me on, it’s also incredibly relaxing. I can feel the stress melt off me, feel the tension I’ve been carrying ease as my breathing deepens.

Somehow, Cat maneuvers us over and onto her bed without pausing her sensual caress of me. When she finally pushes me back against her pillows, straddles my hips, and lowers herself onto me only to ride me slowly, I allow my eyes to close and get pulled into that blissful, peaceful place where Cat and I exist as one.

I feel her, drive into her, tell her how much I love her over and over again until we lose ourselves in each other with quiet, labored moans. The moment my body stills, the last aftershocks of my orgasm subside, and Cat gently slides off me, I fall asleep, the last of my energy spent on making love to the most perfect girl in the world.

***

I wake up to find Cat’s room dark, her spot next to me empty. The door to her room, however, is cracked, her mom’s voice traveling up the stairs.

“He’s here, Frank,” Jen says, and it occurs to me that she must be talking to my dad. I retrieve my phone from my pants on the floor next to me. I note the time, 11:04 p.m. and the seven missed calls from my dad. Guilt jabs at me; I had only told him I was going for a walk. I’ve now been gone for hours. He’s still on edge since I came home last month, hypervigilant, always making sure he knows where I am and what I’m up to. Not that I blame him; after all, the last time I was home I was less than stable, and I probably scared the shit out of him when he found out about my darkest thoughts.

“Yeah, he’s sleeping. Honestly, if it’s alright with you, Frank, I’ll just let him sleep here tonight. I don’t want to wake him. No, really, it’s absolutely fine,” she says. I’m grateful because I don’t want to go home. I want to stay right here, in this bed, next to the one person who makes me happier than anyone or anything else in this world. “He looked exhausted when he got here; it was a hard day.” Jen’s silent for a second. “Frank, please, whatever Ran needs. I promise it’s not a problem. I just wanted to let you know that he’s here and he’s okay. Okay, I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” she says and ends the call.

“Thanks Mom.” Cat’s voice is the best sound. “I’m going to go back to bed.”

I hear Jen sigh. “I guess there’s really no point to me telling you to sleep in the guest room, is there?”

I can’t help but grin. I doubt Jen’s all that excited about Cat and me sleeping in the same bed.

“No. Not really, Mom,” Cat says. I detect mischief in her voice.

“Fine, just… well, you know…”

“I know, Mom. Be safe and don’t say anything to dad,” Cat says before I hear her walk up the stairs. A second later she’s back in the room, closing the door behind her, leaving only the streetlights outside her window as a source of light. I feel her carefully climb back into bed. My senses are aroused when she lifts the blanket and scoots close to me, conforming her soft body to mine.

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