Page 56 of Falcon

“You’re staring at me.” His voice is slightly hoarse with sleep.

“I’m touching you too,” I whisper.

“Creep.” He chuckles and rolls toward me, placing his large hand on the small of my back and hauling me into his chest. “Can’t sleep?”

I tuck my head under his chin and nuzzle in, getting comfortable, and he grips the back of my thigh to drape my whole leg over his hip, so we can be even closer. In this position, I can feel his heart beating against mine.

“I’m not a good sleeper. I never have been,” I tell him.

“Me neither, really.”

“You seemed to be sleeping perfectly fine a few minutes ago, until I woke you up with my secret touching.” I lay my hand on his ribcage.

“Maybe I was exhausted because a little blonde-haired pixie wore me out.”

I just scoff, and he rewards me with a laugh.

“I feel relaxed with you, Faith.” I can feel him shrug. “I don’t know; I was just able to sleep. I’m not complaining or questioning it.”

He feels comfortable enough around me, and in my home, that he was able to sleep without issue? I don’t know why, but this makes my stomach and my heart do backflips.

“Well, my bed is always open for your sleeping needs.”

“What about other needs? Is that up for negotiation?” His hand eases down my back to grip curve of my ass and squeeze.

“I think that can be arranged.”

“Yesss,” he growls, before gripping my hair with his other hand and tugging my head back, forcing me to look up at him. I can just make out the shape of his face in the darkness; the moon isn’t giving me enough light to see any more.

I grip one of his arms with each of my hands, and I feel the roughness of his scar once again.

“Why the dragon?” I ask, and this causes him to pull back just a bit, as if he needs a bit of space to even begin to answer.

“I don’t know, I guess I just like dragons.”

I tilt my head to the side and shake it. “No one gets a huge tattoo on their body without a story behind it.”

He eases my leg down from his hip and rolls over to his back once again, and I am instantly cold, missing the heat of his body.

Have I upset him? Is the tattoo a sore subject?

I’m about to tell him forget it, that it’s not my business…and then he begins talking.

“I’m sure you’ve heard from Nora that our parents died when we were young. I was a teenager, fourteen, and Nora was just a kid…ten. The apartment we were living in caught on fire. Hell, to this fucking day, I still don’t even know exactly what happened. All I know is that we acted fast, we did everything right…”

“Falcon, we don’t have to talk about this,” I tell him, placing a hand on his chest, which he tops with one of his own.

“You asked why the dragon, and I want to tell you.”

“Okay,” I say simply, letting him continue on with his story.

“We did everything right. We got out safely, all of us, together, but my father heard screaming from inside the building. He was a cop. I guess it’s in their blood to help when someone is in need.” He shrugs. “He ran back into the building, and my mom went after him. I tried to go too, but I didn’t get close enough before one of my neighbors, I don’t even remember which one, wrapped me up in his arms and physically pulled me back. I fought, God, did I fight him. Screaming for my mom and dad. Hearing Nora’s screams mixing with the roar of the fire. I fought him to the ground and landed on a curb that was nearby. Sliced my arm up pretty good.”

Tears are rolling down my face as I listen. All I want to do is go back and hold little Falcon in my arms and tell him everything is going to be okay.

“When I was old enough, and had enough money saved up for myself, I got the tattoo. One, to cover the scar that would always remind me of that night, and two…a dragon, because that is the source of fire, isn’t it? They have ultimate control. Fire cannot hurt them because they are fire. A little tribute to my parents, I guess.”

“Falcon,” I whisper through tears, sniffing a little so I can speak, “I’m so sorry.”

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