Page 8 of Damnation
“Come on, let’s go get your skates,” he says, pointing to the skate rental behind him. “First, though, promise me you won’t improvise a hoop jump or whatever the fuck it is; I don’t want that on my conscience,” he teases me, recalling the “minor” skating injury I told him about.
“Loop jump,” I correct him, exploding into laughter. Then, putting on my most angelic face, I add, “I’ll be good, I promise.”
Before I can walk past him, Thomas grabs my hips and pulls me back into him. “You’re good, right? I mean, other than your mother, you’re…are you okay?” he asks, suddenly serious and even worried. I feel his arms around my torso, and his body heat warms me instantly.
“I think so,” I answer automatically. “I mean, I’m still pretty shaken up, and I have a really bad headache but…I guess I’m okay.” His cryptic gaze is fixed on me, as though my answer doesn’t have him entirely convinced.
“Hey…” I touch his face with all the sweetness I can muster, ready to ask him what is going on in his head, but he doesn’t let me.
He moves closer, and in the next instant, his mouth is pressed against mine. Hot, tender, delicate. I open my lips easily, as though my body has been waiting just for this, while his hands tighten on my hips. A shiver of desire runs down my spine. Because that is what happens every time he touches me, looks at me, or kisses me: shivers. My legs, my hands, even my heart feel like they’re trembling.
When we pull back from one another, I get lost in those deep eyes, as green and brilliant as emeralds. They make me feel so protected, impervious to any danger. And even though I know that the greatest danger of all is standing right here in front of me, I can’t help but look at him as though he’s the only thing that matters in this world. Suddenly, I no longer care about my mother’s demands, about not having a roof over my head; I’m not even worried about fending for myself, not if Thomas is here with me. I don’t need anything else.
“Thank you for doing this, for bringing me here.”
He shakes his head, frowning almost imperceptibly, as though I have nothing to be thankful for. As though taking me here is completely normal, just something anyone would have done. But it’s not.
“Anyone” wouldn’t take me skating in the middle of the might. But Thomas did.Hedid. And that is when I’m overwhelmed by a stunning realization, a truth that I’ve been trying to ignore for too long but can no longer suppress. If I admit it to myself, I’ll never be able to go back to the way I was before. I’ll never be able to pretend that it isn’t the case. It will be the end—my end. But trying to deny it no longer makes any sense.
He smiles at me, unaware of my dangerous thoughts. Then, he steps back and gestures for me to go to the skate rental. I head for it with my mind in turmoil and my heart feeling like it’s about to beat right out of my chest.
Oh my God…
I am in love with Thomas Collins.
***
The cold pierces my throat. The blades of my skates glide along the sheet of ice, scoring it. After a little bit of a run-up, I launch myself into a spin. I raise my arms high and take a deep breath of the freezing air that whips past my face. I am twirling so rapidly that it almost feels like I’m being sucked into a vortex. This is the third spin I’ve managed to complete without falling. The first four attempts were embarrassing failures. Every time I got enough momentum going, I would end up with my ass on the ice. Thomas, naturally, took every opportunity to make fun of me. Sitting in the empty bleachers, which are arranged in an oval around the rink, Thomas laughed and took pictures of all my falls. The asshole.
After a few more turns around the rink, I’m starting to feel the wear of my sleepless night, and from the slight redness of his eyes, I’m betting the same goes for Thomas. Still, he doesn’t say anything and just sits there, silently watching me skate, waiting for me to put an end to our long night. I glide over to him, grabbing the railing and catching his eye, “Hey, do you want to leave?”
“You don’t want to skate anymore?” he asks, getting to his feet.
“No, I’m tired, and it’ll be morning soon, and campus is going to fill up.”
“Okay, let’s go, then.”
I take off my skates and return them to the rental area, making sure to put them back exactly where I found them so I don’t arouse any suspicion. Then, I return to Thomas, and we walk together through the deserted corridors of Oregon State University. I sport a shy smile as I cannot help but think about how good I’ve felt in the last hour. Skating once again after so many years was magical. He made it magical. And I know this sense of complete peace is only a temporary state of being and that, when the euphoria has passed, I’m going to get sucked right back into that vortex of misery. But for a brief and wonderful moment, Thomas has managed to make the pain tearing me up just a little more bearable.
We walk silently the whole way back, each of us lost in our own thoughts, and it’s only when we get close to the exit that I feel mystomach clench so tightly that it leaves me breathless. Because I am realizing that I have nowhere to go when I leave here. I certainly can’t go home.
“What’s wrong?” Thomas’s voice, deep and rasping, punctures the silence around us.
“Nothing.”
He stops, ducks his face down to look at me as I tilt mine up. “Come on, Ness. You can’t bullshit me. You should know that by now.”
“I just don’t understand how it all happened.”
He frowns. “What?”
“All of it…my mother, who kicked me out, my father, who just stopped caring about me. I mean…I’m alone, and I have no idea how I got that way.” My eyes are wet. My God, all I can ever do is cry; it’s so frustrating.
Thomas pulls me close to him, resting his chin on top of my head. “You’re not alone.”
“I am, though.” I grasp the fabric of his sweatshirt tightly in my fists while my throat constricts on a sob. I’m doing everything I can to hold back tears. “It feels like I’ve got no one left,” I confess in a weak murmur.
Thomas takes my face in his hands and locks his eyes on mine as he says three simple words that mean more to me than anything else: “You have me.”
