Page 58 of Born into Blood

“Take me upstairs, Luka,” I whisper.

“You know I’m not expecting anything, right?”

“I know.”

He pulls back, seeing for himself that I believe him, and when he’s sure I’m telling the truth, he grabs my bag and we step out. Once we’re in the penthouse, he sets my bag down on the counter while I look around. It’s just as beautiful as I remember it.

“Did you tell your cousins to stay away tonight?” I smile to let him know I’m joking.

He runs a hand through his hair and motions to the penthouse around us. “I didn’t need to. I actually just moved in. Niki’s hooking them up with a new place.” His gaze drifts to the terrace. The hammock is easy to see thanks to the outdoor lighting and large windows. “This place has special memories to me, and I wasn’t willing to let them go. Plus,” he says, giving me a grin, “you said you like this place.”

“I do,” I tell him, looking around at the gorgeous penthouse. “It’s amazing.”

“Good, then it’ll be easy for me to convince you to move in.”

If I were eating something, I’d be choking on it now. My mouth opens and closes like I’m a damn fish trying to breathe out of water, while I try like hell to come up with some way to respond to what has to be a joke, but he’s not laughing. He’s just staring at me with a hungry look in his eyes and a sexy smile playing at his lips.

“You want me to move in?”

“Yes, as soon as possible.” He steps closer, stopping when our bodies are only inches apart and he’s towering over me. “I feel better when you’re near me. I don’t like not knowing what’s going on or where you’re at. I hate not knowing the little things.”

“Little things?”

“Yes.” He lightly drags a finger up my neck and along my throat. “I don’t like not knowing what pajamas you’re wearing, what you look like when you first wake up, how many cups of coffee you drink in the morning,” he gives a soft laugh and adds, “whether or not you’re a grumpy morning person or if you hog the bed and steal the covers. I want to know everything about you.”

“I don’t look great in the morning. You should probably prepare yourself for that.”

He laughs and threads his fingers through my hair. “Impossible.”

“Well, I’ll be sure and rub my victory in tomorrow when you open your eyes and see me in all my morning glory.” He laughs while I add, “God, I bet you’re annoyingly gorgeous when you first wake up.”

“I guess you’ll find out soon enough.”

His words send a rush of warmth through me, reminding me that I’m about to spend the night with him. My arms burn with the secret I’m hiding, and one of my hands instinctively goes to my wrist, the fingers edging in past the cuff of my shirt to feel the first raised line on my arm. He feels me tense and assumes it’s because I’m hesitant to share a bed with him.

“Kisa,” he whispers, cupping my face and kissing my forehead. “I want you to know that I will be just as happy falling asleep with you on the couch while fully clothed if that’s what you’d rather do. The last thing I want is for you to feel pressured to do something you’re not ready for.”

His lips trail a soft line of kisses across my brow and temple. “You are worth waiting for, and I’ll wait as long as you need me to.”

“I don’t want to wait,” I whisper, “but you might change your mind when you see what I’ve been hiding.”

“Impossible,” he quickly says, not a trace of doubt in his voice. He pulls back just enough to see me. “What have you been hiding from me, kisa?”

Fear has a lump forming in my throat, and when looking into his green eyes is more than I can take, I focus on the wall of windows beside us and the lit-up skyline beyond. I can’t confess my secrets while meeting his eyes. I just can’t.

He keeps cupping my face, thumbs stroking my cheeks while I tell him what I’ve never told anyone. While I explain how I started cutting myself when I was twelve and the reasons why I did it and why I kept coming back to it, he doesn’t stop me, doesn’t force me to look at him. Instead, he keeps caressing my face and neck and then eventually picks me up and carries me to the couch, sitting down with me in his lap.

“I’m scared you’re going to think I’m ugly,” I finally admit. “It’s not pretty, Luka. What if you’re disgusted by it?”

He hooks a finger under my chin, gently pulling my gaze back to his. There’s no judgment in his green eyes, only love and acceptance, and the sight of it has the lump in my throat growing. I fight the tears, though. I don’t want to turn this into a crying fest. I want this night to be special. I don’t want it ruined by my past.

“You are beautiful to me, kisa, every inch of you, and nothing will ever change that.” He runs his hand down my arm, and I try not to squirm. I’ve spent so many years hiding this part of myself, and it feels odd to allow his hands to skim over my secrets, even if there is still the fabric of my shirt between his fingers and my skin.

“Everyone in my family has scars, Lara, and I imagine I’ll end up with my fair share of them. They don’t bother me. Nothing about you could bother me, but you don’t have to show me if you don’t want to.”

“I suppose I could just keep my shirt on at all times.”

He smiles at my tone. “Even in the shower.” He kisses my shoulder and adds, “Just make sure it’s a white one.”

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