Page 44 of Discovered Magic
Her throat grew thick.
He seemed to understand her predicament, and instead of pressing, he lifted her hand from his chest and wove their fingers together.
“Abbie was the light of my life,” he said. His words were rough, as if torn from a throat as tight as hers. “We never spent an entire day apart since our first date. Some friends called us co-dependent, but we didn’t care. We enjoyed each other’s company and didn’t give a shit about the outside world.”
Her fingers tightened on his, and he transferred his gaze from their joined hand to meet her steady stare. “It’s not to say we didn’t have our arguments. We’re both pig-headed.” Wilder smiled, and Mary was immediately warmer.
“You,” she whispered. “She… nice.”
He chuckled, causing pleasurable friction between their bodies. She was swamped with the ridiculous desire to strip him bare and rub her breasts against him.
His mouth quirked, giving the sneaking suspicion he knew. Heat crept up her neck, but she didn’t duck her head as she might’ve if she’d embarrassed herself in front of Draven, Jonas, or Roxanne.
Wilder’s grin widened.
“Don’t kid yourself, sweetheart. My Abbie—that’s you—is as stubborn as they come. A fighter.”
Other than his touch, the laid-back personality was familiar, too.
“They say”—she swallowed the pain from speaking—“I…”
Wilder placed a finger on her lips, silencing her. “Do you remember how to write?”
Did she? No one had asked her to before. Was their assumption that she couldn’t?
“You haven’t tried,” he concluded, watching her closely.
How was he able to read her mind? The Aether-man, she understood, because they told her he possessed unlimited talents, but Wilder? Although his aura was as bright as she’d ever seen, he didn’t possess the same commanding presence as Damian Dethridge, nor were his eyes as penetrating. For which she was grateful. Mary doubted she could stand it if someone knew every damned thought in her brain.
Realizing he was waiting for her answer, she shook her head, confirming his suspicion.
“We’ll rectify it right away,” he assured her.
He shifted, as if to sit up, and an instinctive denial arose within her. She clutched his cotton shirt.
“I’m not leaving you, Abbie. Never again.” The promise in his amber eyes sparked a need in her.
Nodding, she eased away, freeing him.
“Lock the door behind me, and let no one in but those you already know,” he warned. “I won’t be but five minutes, okay?”
Letting him go was the hardest thing she’d done since arriving in this godforsaken place, but she nodded, turning the key behind him and sliding down onto the floor. Her tears came then. Healthy-sized sobs that wracked her body.
Somebody loved her.
He’d mourned her absence and promised never to abandon her again.
Behind her, a tap broke through her self-pitying meltdown, and she twisted around.
“It’s me, Marie.”
She expelled a breath, silently scolding herself for not expecting Draven’s teleport. The Guardian didn’t miss a trick, and would undoubtedly have known the instant Wilder stepped outside.
As he crouched beside her, his warm whiskey eyes missed nothing on their tour of her tear-stained face.
“Do I kill him?”
With a watery smile, she shook her head. “Heart… knows.”
