Page 63 of The Vows We Keep
She shakes her head. “I wouldn’t want to pass out, but the way you gripped me? It felt possessive. I never thought I’d want to be possessed by anybody, Niro. Ever.”
“And now?”
“I’m bending.” She uses the words from our conversation this morning.
I wonder what weird plan fate had in mind when it sent her to kidnap me.
Mistaken identity. She thought I was King. If she’d actually kidnapped King, she’d probably be dead now.
And if there hadn’t been this connection between us, I think I would be dead now too.
I stoke the pad of my thumb along her cheek and kiss her. Softly this time.
Sweetly, without words or hurry, because tomorrow is never promised.
And I have no idea what’s going to happen once we leave this hotel in the morning.
19
CATALINA
Islowly open my eyes and adjust to the darkness.
Niro is wrapped around me, and for the first time in my life, I realize how good that can feel with the right person. With Felipe, it always felt controlling. The whole big spoon, little spoon thing had an integral hierarchy to it that made me itch. I was too hot. Too uncomfortable. And would look for any excuse to extricate myself to a cooler part of the bed. But with Niro, I want to snuggle in closer, be held a little tighter, which is so unlike me.
My brain fires back online as I remember where I am and why I’m here. With as little movement as possible, I reach for my phone. It’s twenty minutes before six, when we need to get out of bed.
I turn in Niro’s arms, and even though I jostle him, he doesn’t wake up. The man sleeps like the dead. It’s unsurprising, given how much energy he burns during the day. I like that about him.
I study his face. High cheekbones and long lashes that I envy. In sleep he looks younger, happier, more at ease. When he’s awake, he looks tougher, harder. Unable to resist, I lean forward and brush my lips over his. As I do, his arms tighten around me, then relax.
“Morning,” he says finally. His voice is rough.
“Hey.”
His eyes flicker open and at first struggle to stay that way. “Why are you awake so early?”
“No idea.” I trace my finger along the silver of his scar. “Who did this to you?”
Niro reaches for my finger and presses a kiss to it. “A man who was trying to kill Arthur ‘Camelot’ Hills, King’s father.”
There’s a sadness in the way he says it. “I’m so sorry. Was Camelot killed?”
Niro rolls over onto his back and pulls me to his chest. “Not then, no. My sister was.”
“Jesus, Niro. Lo siento mucho. How?”
“I don’t talk about it.”
“Of course. I understand. I’m sorry to pry.”
I place my palm on his chest, and Niro covers it with his own. We lie there for several minutes, and I’m about to get out of bed when he starts to talk again.
“I was supposed to be looking after her for the day. I was fifteen, she was nine. Different dads and all that. She was mom’s second chance at being a parent. It was summer break. I wanted to be out with my friends, but I’d caused some shit at school and was grounded. I don’t even remember the reason why now.”
He slides his fingers between mine and holds my hand.
“You were both so young,” I say. I don’t even need to know what happens next to empathize with a teen who was left to look after his sister.
