Page 33 of Liar & Champion
It didn’t respond, and then I hissed because that needle felt extra big today.
When Nix didn’t show up for hours, and I was safely medicated and mostly in control of my limbs, I went looking for him. Hopefully he hadn’t tried to run off into the desert again. When I found him, he was sitting in a small clearing with his shirt off, cross-legged, eyes closed, palms up on his knees, the whole meditation deal.
I sat down across from him and stared at his chest. Look, sometimes there are moments in life that you have to memorize, and that was one of them.
“Hey, Sunshine. Do you need something?” he asked, keeping his eyes closed and moving just his lips and no other part of him. He was pretty amazingly talented, but even without the coordination, that chest…
I swallowed and tried to remember how to speak English. “Um, I just wanted to ask you if I could wear your shirt, because my clothes are wet, and I couldn’t find any of my things, no doubt because they’re in my duffle bag in the trunk exactly where I put them. I want to keep your shirt as a memento. I’ve never had anyone take a bullet for me before.” And that chest. Wow. Look at those abdominals, rippling above the slope of his pectorals, all of him perfectly tan, symmetrical, except for subtle scars here and there that I was literally drooling to touch. Okay, that was all of him.
“And that means you should take my shirt? Makes sense. Are you saying that you aren’t wearing anything, asking if you can wear my shirt?” He kept his eyes shut, relaxed even.
“No, I’m already wearing it. I just thought I should ask.”
“And if I said no, you’d take it off?”
“No, you’d have to take it off me.” I wiggled my brows at him, but it was wasted because he had his eyes closed. I sighed and picked at the hem. “Sorry, lame joke after the shower whatever. Was it my tongue or my imperfect breasts that scared you away?”
That got him to open his eyes. He frowned at me, staring into my eyes like he was searching them for something essential to his very life. “You were terrified. I should have realized that it would bring back the attack, holding you against the wall, you probably couldn’t breathe very well, and then there’s the morality issue. I rushed. I have no excuses, just apologies.”
I was terrified? Oh, because my hands were shaking and I’d hit him. I gave him a slight smile and tried not to stare at his chest. No way I was telling him about my issues. He’d just leftme in the shower because I was scared, so how would he react if I was in serious pain all the time? He had too much empathy to deal with it. And I wanted him. A lot. I’d made it a point to avoid wanting what I couldn’t have, marriage, children, puppies, but this was in reach and would help him with his mommy issues. Not his psychological ones, just the literal ones.
What did he need to hear? I squinted at him and then rubbed my arms. “I’m not scared of you, it’s just that I had a flashback from the other night.” I took a shuddering breath and squeezed myself hard enough to hurt. I looked at him with my big eyes and tried to look like I needed his protection. I wasn’t really worried about Michael, mostly because I was dying, and I could just disappear again for a few months. No biggie. Nix definitely wanted to protect the innocent and helpless. “I know that you’re nothing like him, but it just came back to me in a rush.” I reached out and grabbed his strong hand. “I feel so safe with you. Maybe we could take things slow. I mean, if you think marriage would work.” I shook my head and looked confused. It wasn’t entirely a lie, because what was I doing? “Sorry. I probably sound like a gold-digger. You don’t want to get married.”
He suddenly squeezed my hand back, but still gentle. “There’s a chapel in Nevada just over the border where we can get married for six months. That will deal with the morality issue, and I promise I will be more careful with you.”
I wanted to snort, because how could he possibly be more tender with me? Instead, I climbed into his lap and put my head on his shoulder. “Are you sure that you’re okay with that? However functional marriage can be, it seems like an extreme solution to your small problem.”
“Your stalker is trying to kill me, and kidnap you. It’s time for extreme solutions.” He kissed my forehead and absently stroked the back of my hand. No pain. Nope, it was a creeping pleasurethat made the base of my spine positively tingly. How long would this last? Not long enough, obviously, but I’d make the most of it.
“If you say so.” I closed my eyes and relaxed against him. He smelled so good, and the shifting sunlight through the pine trees made me want to lay in a hammock. “Hammocks are so cool,” I said.
“That’s exactly what I was thinking. Hammocks are so cool.” He bumped me with his chin. I only smiled because he felt so good down to his chin.
“What should be our theme song?”
“Theme song?”
“If we’re getting married, we should have a theme song to go with the super-villain names. Too bad you’re stuck on Kitten, because it’s as bad as Sunshine. It’s not too late to change. You could call me Dread, or Pix, because that would rhyme with Nix. Pix and Nix Death-Hammer, the scourges of Alabama. Don’t leave your fried chicken at home.”
“Or your hammocks.” He nuzzled my hair. “What about ‘Twistin’ the Night Away?’ We could make a dance to go with it and perform it during the extremely romantic wedding. We could even involve a hammock.”
“Now you’re just making fun of me.”
He laughed and wrapped his arms around me, kissing my temple. “I love hammocks, for real. I’m terrified of marriage, but it’s not forever, just six months. Are you okay with that, Kitten?”
“You are such a handsome man, but I think six months will be plenty of time married. Actually, it will be less, because you can call what we’ve been doing dating. Self-defense class, Betty’s fried ravioli, saving me from skateboards, saving me from psychos. That’s like four dates, and each took at least a week.”
“At least.” He nuzzled my hair again. “You are so cute.”
“I know. Cute is such a great thing to be, like buttons and kittens.” Still, it apparently worked sometimes.
“Hm. If you get off me, I can catch fish for dinner. I got bread and salad to go with it. They’re all in the cooler.”
“Can you show me how to fish? I’ve never done it before. Hopefully I’m better at that than kissing. I think I have potential, though, don’t you?”
He narrowed his eyes at me and picked me up by the waist and set me on my feet before he stood up, towering over me. He didn’t usually seem so big and powerful. “What are you talking about? You aren’t dissing my fiancé's kissing, I hope.”
“Don’t diss the kiss,” I said with a grin. “Seriously, I haven’t kissed a lot. Like twice, and they were both awful, so I didn’t pursue it, but I like kissing you, so I wouldn’t mind practicing, and would eventually be good at it, don’t you think?”
