Page 13 of Actions and Reactions
The trek through the woods is quick, but when he goes to walk back to the kitchen door, I pull him to the side and to my room’s window. I really don’t feel like having another showdown with our parents, and this way we can all have a few more hours away from each other to think things through.
And I can hopefully get away with more kisses before Si puts a stop to this.
As expected, the window is unlocked, so I slide it open then basket my hands to give Si a boost.
I have no clue if he can manage it on his own, since we definitely haven’t talked about the state of his leg—and I don’t plan to ever have that conversation—but I figure that offering help wordlessly is the way to go in this situation.
Si pulls his leg up by the back of his knee, and only lets go when his foot is firmly on my hands, then he reaches up to the molding and pulls himself up while I push gently.
I’m climbing over it too in no time, and don’t give either of us a chance to say anything else.
I march—quietly—to the door and drag my duffel intothe room, then close the door. Facing Si again, I see he’s focusing way too hard on the wall of my room. So, trying to circumvent any awkwardness, I take his hand and pull him into the bathroom.
I turn on the shower and then step right in front of him and grip the bottom of his T-shirt.
With my eyes firmly locked on his, I pull it over his belly, and dare him with a look to stop me. His lips twitch but he doesn’t let that smirk loose this time. Instead he raises his arms and I pull the fabric over his head.
He’s the one who pulls his sweatpants over his hips this time, so I get to work on my jeans and then maneuver him into the shower by walking uncomfortably close to him.
When the hot spray is hitting both of us, though, I’m at a loss again. I wish I could listen to my instincts, but they’re silent right now, so I try to think logically.
We should get clean since we’re in the shower, right?
So I pump some shower gel into my hand and unceremoniously drop to my knees.
That’s right, I’m gonna clean him up, and start with his feet.
The problem is that when I’m down here I get my first ever look at his scarred leg.
One scar goes almost from his groin to the outside of his thigh. There are also two two-inch lines on the sides of his knee, and then one more from the middle of his shin to the top of his foot.
I force my gaze upward when I realize I’ve been staringfor too long, and it’s to see Si look away from me right at that second.
My instincts scream at me this time.
The impulse is so strong I don’t even process what I’m doing until my lips are already touching the uneven skin.
“What—” Silas shouts, clearly startled, but I shake my head at him, desperate for him to let me have this a little longer.
“Don’t think. Not right now.” I practically beg, but ask me if I care. “Just feel.”For now, for tonight. Please just let him feel me.“Tomorrow we can talk.”
It’s a big ask, I know.
So many hours until tomorrow morning, but I believe it’s not only something he can give me, but also something hewantsto give me.
4
Silas
After a foolish tenseconds where I actually debate taking this chance, I nod down at Vinny.
Denying that the relief I can so clearly see on Vinny’s face breaks my heart would be useless, and now I can’t seem to look away from his electric green eyes. Those are eyes I trust, despite everything, and I doubt that trust could ever die.
He grabs my right foot and I slap a hand against the tile to keep my balance when he lifts my leg and starts washing me.
It’s weird . . . at first at least.
I’m painfully aware of every inch of skin he touches, especially when his fingers brush carefully over the scars.
