Page 44 of Quiet Rage
Desperate to change the subject to something less depressing, I ask, “Do you want to get any more tattoos?”
“I don’t know. Sometimes, I see something that I really like but I usually don’t have the extra money to pay for one,” she explains. “What about you? Do you want to get any tattoos?
Her question makes me smile, simply because she asks it. This is the first time she wants to know something about me. It’s a small step, but I’m glad she took it.
“I’m indecisive about a design. I want something covering my whole arm, but I don’t know what. Did it hurt?”
“Scared of the pain?” she questions, a hint of amusement in her voice.
“Curious,” I counter.
“It wasn’t bad. It’s bearable. Honestly, the itching part when it heals is way worse.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” I’m about to fire another question at her when she surprises me with one of her own.
“Are you…intimate with Tiana?”
I almost laugh at the innocent way she is asking.
“No,” I tell her honestly. “I never slept with her. Would it bother you if I did?”
“No,” she blurts out a little too fast and a lot too loud. “It’s none of my business. I shouldn’t have asked.”
“Just so we’re clear. You are not allowed to beintimatewith anyone else,” I warn, the thought of another guy's hands on her makes my blood boil.
She doesn’t say anything back, and I’m glad, because if she tried to fight me on this I might have to fuck her after all, just to show her who she belongs to.
Chapter 20
Tamson
The pillowunder my cheek is moving. It’s warm, it’s smooth, and it’s moving.
And it’s…snoring a little?
My eyes pop open as if an explosion had rocked the house. My heart is in my throat the way it would be if there was an explosion, too, only that’s not the problem this morning. It’s from waking up to realize I rolled over at some point in the night and snuggled up against Kellen. He’s still on his back, like he was when we fell asleep. I’m the one who curled up with him and slept with my head on his shoulder and one arm thrown over his chest.
Indecision freezes me. Do I stay like this? Do I roll over? Do I pretend I’m still asleep?
Turns out it’s a little too late for that. “Good morning.” There’s soft laughter in his voice, rumbling in his chest.
At least he seems like he’s in a good mood. He didn’t shove me off him and tell me to get fucked or anything like that. I’ll take itas a good sign. “Good morning,” I mumble, peeling myself off of him. “Sorry if I drooled on you.”
“It wouldn’t be the worst thing I’ve ever had on me.” He looks down at his bare skin. “Looks okay.”
I would swear he is two different people. The version I’m with now, the one I fell asleep with, has a sense of humor. He’s warm, even patient. I wonder how a good doctor would diagnose him. I wish I had the money to get it done, because I like being with him when he’s like this. I can hardly believe it, but I kind of wish things could always be this way.
The problem with that, of course, is the way my heart sinks when he sits up with purpose. “I better go.”
He’s right, obviously. He can’t stick around. There’s not even enough time to count all the reasons why. “Sure,” I mumble. Pulling the blankets up under my arms, I scoot back until I’m sitting against the headboard while he gets dressed. It’s a little awkward, but not in a bad way. There’s nothing cold or distant about him. He’s just in a hurry to get going.
Once he’s finished putting on his shoes, sitting near the foot of the bed, he looks at me over his shoulder. He even looks different this morning. Softer. Younger. Whatever it is that usually creases his brow has smoothed out. “It was nice sleeping with you.”
I don’t know what to say. I’m pretty sure the flush that heats my cheeks and the smile I can’t hold back says it all. A funny grin touches the corners of his mouth when he gets up, standing over me before leaning down for a soft, gentle kiss that still manages to singe my soul.
My toes are ready to curl by the time he straightens up. “I’ll see you later.”
He’s already out of the room and downstairs by the time it occurs to me to wonder when I’ll see him, where he’ll be. It won’t be at school. Does he plan on always staking out the store? He’ll end up failing out if he does that. I know I shouldn’t care, not after everything he’s done.
