Page 46 of The One
A knot tightens in my chest. Slowly, carefully, I reach out, letting my fingertip graze under her chin. It’s as light as a whisper, avoiding the tender skin where her father struck her.
A shudder runs through her, rippling through the space between us, as if the air itself carries the connection. It reaches me, sending goosebumps skittering across my skin.
I hesitate for the briefest moment, never having felt anything like this before.
But something deeper, something beyond reason, urges me on. Gently, I push just a little, guiding her face toward mine.
Her breathing turns uneven, lashes fluttering as she keeps her gaze downcast. My pulse hammers in the silence between us.
Then, slowly, so slowly, her eyes rise, and her light-brown orbs lock onto mine.
Chapter Sixteen
Mariella
Mateo’s face is so close.
His warmth wraps around me like a magical blanket.
My gaze lifts slowly to his, drawn to him like the tide to the moon.
His deep brown eyes burn into mine, holding me captive. I never want them to let me go.
The noises of the world fade into a distant hum. As I gaze into his eyes, I sense a strange connection, like two souls reaching for one another across an infinite expanse.
I swear I can feel him. His presence brushes against mine, his heartbeat syncing with my own.
A lightness spreads through me, unexpected but welcome, lifting the weight of the last half hour.
Then the memory of my father crashes into me like a cold wave.
My chest tightens.
I blink once. Twice.
My eyes drop. The fragile magic slips through my fingers.
Did I just imagine all of this? Or was it my mind grasping for something, anything, to block out the pain?
Mateo swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he slowly pulls back and clears his throat.
“We need to ice your cheek. And check out your arm. Let’s go back.”
I sense him standing. On autopilot, I rise too, though every part of me wants to go and hide from the world, and especially from him.
I hate that he saw how my father treated me, that he witnessed the slap, the harsh words, and the way I crumbled afterward.
But if I’m honest with myself, it’s not the real reason I can’t bear to look him in the eye again.
No, it’s the way he was comforting me, as if he actually cared. And that right there is a dangerous thought.
At least I’m smart enough to recognize it, to not let my heart run wild with that silly notion.
Still, my body betrays me, my pulse quickening at the memory of his arms around me, of his face so close to mine.
Mateo did care.
But only because I’m under his protection. He made that crystal clear to my father.
