Page 53 of Dravin

“You’re awake?” Her hand lands on my cheek, stroking down to my jawline. She stops and wriggles closer. It takes all my control not to turn my face and kiss her palm. “Have you even slept?” My silence is answer enough. “Are you in a lot of pain?” She peeks up over me to the nightstand to see if the pills are still there. They are. “You could take something to take the edge off.”

“It’s not that.”

She plants a kiss on my temple before I can stop her. She moves closer, until our knees are touching. She plants one palm against my chest and smooths the other hand from my shoulder to my wrist.

“Do you ever have nightmares?”

“Sometimes, I guess. Most of the time, I nap, and I don’t think I ever sleep deep enough for them to truly hit me. Maybe my conscience and I have a sort of truce.”

“I…” Her lips purse in hesitation. I can practically feel the pain radiating from her. I press my thumb to her lips to let her know that she doesn’t have to share. She can keep this for herself if she wants to, but she kisses my finger and slants her face to the side, so it falls away, determination written all over her. “I do. Sometimes. I see… whatitprobably would have looked like.”

“Did you ever…”

“No. In that one thing, I listened to you. It never would have helped me to see those photos or read those news stories. Marcus wouldn’t have wanted me to. It’s much better when I dream about us as kids. My mom is there too.” A diamond sheen of tears glistens in her eyes. She stares unwaveringly at me so that they don’t fall. “Do you ever think about it?”

“I think about the past.” I tilt her chin up, smoothing my thumb in small circles over the little indent below her bottom lip. “It’s not all bad. I made good friends and received training that I’ll use for a lifetime. I learned a lot about myself, the world, and life. None of it was straightforward. That changes a person.” I cough uncomfortably. The motion causes my ribs to expand, which sets off a new wave of fire all over my back. “I’m going to stop before I end up sounding like a huge douchebag.”

She traces my lips, so sudden that I inhale sharply and nearly choke on my own saliva. “What are you doing?” I probably should have asked her that the second she curled up on this bed right beside me.What are we both really doing?

“I don’t know.” She pushes her finger between my lips. My tongue darts out and tastes her. She whimpers. “Probably the exact thing I shouldn’t be doing.”

She’s right, but I don’t stop her as she presses her lips to mine. I freeze and she does all the work, teasing my lips with hers. She leaves me panting and then leaves me altogether, kissing my chin and cheek and then getting close enough to brush her lashes against my cheeks and the bridge of my nose.

I want to pull her in against me. To snug her close and never let her go. I want to bathe her in kisses, breathe in her clean scent. What we’re doing—what she did for me in that tattoo room downstairs, it wasn’t sexual. This is something beyond bodily needs, and yet it’s all wrapped up with that too. My cock is raging hard, but it’s not just her body that I want. It’s her sweetness, her kindness, her compassion, her care, her soul. The wholeness of me wants the wholeness of her, all her broken parts, sharp edges, beauty, intelligence, talent, and uniqueness. I suppose, the term would beintimacy.

I was once a part of a team. We knew each other better than brothers, better than we knew ourselves. We could anticipate what the other needed. We were more than just individual parts and pieces. We functioned as a whole or not at all. I was a part of them, and they were a part of me. It went beyond brotherhood. I didn’t think that feeling could exist outside of that life, but right here, right now…

It’s terrifying.

My throat closes up with panic. I make a guttural noise that I can’t control. Kael dips down and kisses the sound away. She draws me out, her lips tender but insistent, until the snarled anger in my chest abates and my lungs flex in and out again.

She smooths my hair, stroking a few of the long strands away from my face. “The weird emo gangster haircut is growing on me, but you should let Tarynn shave the short parts shorter, leave a few longer, and leave the top longest of all. Wear it slicked back with hair oil like you did that day in my living room. That would be hot.”

“A little too hot.” I still can’t believe how I didn’t just lose control with her like that. It deserted me completely and still hasn’t fully returned.

She laughs, playing with my hair, brushing it back then mussing it all over the place. “You know what the craziest part of you is?” She scoots back and away from me, crossing her legs in the middle of the bed, a big smile on her face.

I want to drag her back up against me, stick my leg between hers, encircle her in my arms. Bathe her face, her breasts, her legs, and hands, and feet with kisses before I spread her legs and made a feast of her.

“You’re supposed to ask me what it is.” She points a finger at me, laughing, wide awake and playful.

I’m supposed to be keeping firm boundaries in line. Respecting her grief and giving her space. Looking out for her.

Her eyes sparkle, whiskey in the gold light, drawing me in. There’s no way I can make her leave. I couldn’t earlier and it’s not going to happen now. Not before morning. Maybe not even then. I cave on a sigh. “What is it?”

“You’re actually kind of sweet and wholesome despite the fact that you purposely try to make people terrified and wary of you.”

“I don’t purposely try to do that at all, but if I’m off-putting, that’s good. It’s necessary.”

“I know. But I’ve seen past it, and I think I like what I see. You’re just a big soft marshmallow under all the black scowls, and skull and crossbones vibes.”

“And here I thought it was quite effective. You hated me.”

Her face crumples and her shoulders cave in, but she straightens up, drawing into herself. “I’m truly sorry about that. I didn’thateyou. I blamed you for a lot of things that weren’t your fault. It was mostly grief making me crazy. In my head, I painted you as this terrible thing without feelings. When I figured out you were the exact opposite and stopped being selfish and ignorant, you became human. I changed the painting for myself.” A coy smile arches her lips at one corner, softening the crushing impact those words have. “Bro, would I bone with you if I hated you?”

“Never use that in a sentence again.” The dramatic shudder is worth the pain it causes me. I practically gag again.

She throws back her head and laughs, and my god, every minute of suffering that I’ve ever gone through is worth having her here now, letting that incredible sound loose. “I concur,” she snorts. “Wholeheartedly.” She grows serious, taking my hand in hers. She settles it on her calf, which is way sexier than it should be.

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