Page 58 of The Games We Play
He sounds normal again. Like the ride sorted out his rough edges and he feels comfortable in his own skin again.
“Sure.”
On his way to get them, he wraps his arms around me and kisses the top of my head. “I’m sorry,” he whispers.
I look up at him. “I’m here for you. And whatever it is, we can face it. But hiding things from me isn’t going to work in the long term.”
He nods, even as my stomach turns over. Who am I to lecture him about keeping secrets? And what chance of a long-term relationship do we even have?
“Got it.” He tips my chin and kisses me softly.
And as I watch him step back out onto the patio to grill the steaks, I wonder what’s really at risk and whose side I’m actually on.
19
SPARK
I’m lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, running my fingertips up and down Iris’s naked back. Her skin is so smooth beneath my calloused fingertips that I can’t stop touching her. Sex with her was the best I’ve ever had, but this, these moments in bed ... I had no idea such peace existed.
She’s asleep, her head on my chest. I feel the occasional puff of her breath and wonder how I deserved the good fortune to find her. Instinctively, she knew what I needed tonight, and that was to not be dragged back to a place where there is too much heat and dry dust in the air. To a place where screams punctuate every second.
She didn’t ask again after telling me that secrets wouldn’t work in the long term.
Not once.
She didn’t ask me what my dream was about, even though I scared the crap out of her. Even as fractured parts of the dream still scored their way through my veins.
She didn’t ask as we ate, as she told funny stories about the children she teaches and clearly loves, nor did she when she confided in me that she thinks one of her kids is being abused. She didn’t ask as we cleaned the dishes or sat on the patio beneath the clear, starry sky.
And she sure as fuck didn’t ask when my dick was in her mouth or buried so deep inside her that neither of us could think straight.
But now, I’m wide awake, wondering how to explain to her that I can’t be that person, the one who shares all the shit going on in their head. Because I don’t want those images to get stuck in hers.
Iris’s starts to fidget in my arms, and I wonder if it’s because I’m awake. I move to kiss the top of her head when her forehead crashes into my chin. I wince as I rub my jaw.
“Bathroom,” she mumbles, before leaping out of bed and running down the hallway.
I grab my jeans and tug them on, and by the time I reach the closed bathroom door, I can hear her retching. “You okay, little chick?” I say through the door.
“Don’t ... come in,” she groans.
She’s got no fucking chance of making me stay on this side of the bathroom, but I give her a minute to get the worst out. Knowing she’s naked in there, I grab my hoodie from the back of the chair in the kitchen. It’s the easiest thing to slide over her head. I also grab her a glass of cold water, because there’s nothing worse than the taste in your mouth after puking.
A soft moan precedes the flush of the toilet, and I open the door. “Come here.” I crouch next to her, feeling a wash of protectiveness flow through me. Somehow it makes me complete, chases away the last cobwebs of my earlier dreams.
“You don’t need to be here,” she mutters through teary eyes. “Must be something I—” She leans back over the toilet and hurls again.
Gently, I scoop her hair back from her face with one hand and wait until she’s done. When I remember the glass I’m holding, I hand it to her. “Here, sip this.”
Her hands shake as she takes it and drinks a few sips. When she puts it down on the floor, I flush the toilet, then put the hoodie over her head. The tile is cold beneath my feet, so I sit with my back against the bath and tug her onto my legs.
She shivers as she leans her head against my chest. “Sorry,” she whispers.
“Nothing to be sorry for. Are you okay?”
“Food poisoning, if I had to guess.”
I let my head fall back. “I brought you here for some time away from everything, just the two of us. To help you get some rest and recover from the accident.” I run my hand over the black brace between us. “Instead, I scare the shit out of you and get you sick.”
