Chapter Twenty
An impressive sigh for even his apathetic ass escapes him between deep drags of a cigarette as he inhales whatever nicotine he could get from it. Jensen’s eyes roam over me—searching—I realize as he tilts his head. Searching for what though, I’m not sure.
“What?” I snap, the words come out harsher than intended. Jensen gives nothing but silence in return, only moving to take another hit from his cigarette. Wordlessly, he inches toward me. Nudging out one of my legs, he positions me into a wider stance before nodding in the direction of the water. He raises an eyebrow in a silent question, care to go on a walk?
I nod while watching his every move, afraid to blink as if he’ll vanish into the very smoke he’s exhaling. The music from the house slowly disappears, the chaos of the boys, their chatter, and their booming laughs drift the farther we walk. It’s all replaced by the sounds of waves crashing and the wind howling, whipping through the columns under the pier.
Chills cover my body. I’m not sure if they’re caused by the wind pulling at the hem of my dress, or him. He’s still silent—still observing—still waiting for any reaction before he steps behind me, sliding between my body and the wooden support beam. He forces one of his legs between mine and he pulls me back onto him. His thigh and upper chest become a support for me to lean on.
The wind is deafening as my eyes close at the contact of his body against mine. Terrified to open my eyes, I’m scared this moment might end. I know in these moments he is mine, and mine alone. I will always cherish these stolen little moments between us.
These stolen moments—when no one else is around, when his actions are his and his alone . . . not influenced or encouraged by anyone else—I can never get enough of. He chose to follow me out of the house. He chose to walk with me. He chose to touch me, to pull me into him. In this moment he is choosing me . . . he’s choosing us.
We still haven’t spoken. We only hear sounds of the wind and pounding surf as the tide goes back out to sea. The silence that—not moments ago was slowly driving me mad—is no longer deafening, it has turned into something . . . more. The moment feels as if every breath he inhales, he’s breathing me in.
I’m now his nicotine, his current drug of choice. He pulls me close enough I can feel his breath on my neck. My body relaxes more into his hold, until I can feel his heart beating. It pounds through his chest, directly into my back. His heart calls to mine until our hearts beat together. It’s as if our souls are finally at peace, once more reunited, and no longer calling to one another from thousands of miles apart.
I have no idea how much time has passed. I can’t bring myself to give a damn while he holds me as if his life depends on my touch alone. This type of intimacy is rarely given by a man like him: a man who even when surrounded by his closest friends and his chosen family, chooses to stay guarded. One hand is wrapped around my waist while the other gently strokes my face, after another moment his hands slide down my arms and fold around my middle. I could stay wrapped in this man’s embrace for eternity if the gods allowed it.
This, this was true . . .
“Serenity,” Jensen’s voice rumbles along my back. His words startle me, bringing me back to reality. His nickname for me steals my thoughts, forcing me to wonder if I had begun speaking aloud at some point. My face undoubtedly starts to redden, and I’m grateful the sun has long since set so he can’t see me blush as I glance up at him. He wears a look I’ve only seen a handful of times over the years, something I could never quite place. A glimpse of a grin appears, making my heart flutter before settling back into my chest, once more matching pace with its other half. My other half.
He cups my cheek again. “My beautiful Serenity.” I can feel myself weaken at those three little words. I know this man is—and always will be—my undoing.
“Mhm,” is the only noise I’m able to make as I nuzzle my face into the palm of his hand.
“It’s getting late,” he states simply, letting silence settle between us again. I don’t want to be the one to break the perfect embrace we have, hiding in our small bubble under the pier and moonlight. He must sense I won’t be the one who ends whatever we created here in our silence, because he slowly stands up straight, making sure I am steady on my feet before sliding his leg out from between mine. Slowly, he turns me around to face him before leaning in to kiss me on the forehead. He gently removes a strand of hair from my face before reaching back down for my hand.
Jensen pulls us away from the pier and back under the pure darkness of the night sky. Nothing can steal my attention away from him leading us back to the house. The veins in his forearms are more prominent as they run down through his hands and move slightly as he takes his thumb to trace my fingers that are intertwined with his. Not one word is spoken as we walk. Not one sound leaves his lips, not even as we approach the now quiet beach house. It must be late for the guys to have actually gone to bed, I think before Jensen gestures for me to lift my leg.
I do as he requests, knowing to him actions speak more than words ever could. He doesn’t know what to say, he doesn’t know what this is between us right now either, all he knows is he wanted to spend time with me. For now, that will have to be enough. So, I allow the man I was so idiotically in love with to wash the sand from my legs and toes. I allow him to gently care for me the only way he seems to know how. I watch as he bends down, making sure not one speck of sand is left on my body before he rushes through doing the same for himself, not taking nearly as much care.
His eyes still look as if he’s searching for something as he looks back at me before guiding us back up the old wooden stairs to the porch. Before he can reach for the door handle, I pull him to me. Catching him by surprise, he stumbles before adjusting, thanks to his quick reaction time. I don’t think about my actions before I stretch up onto my toes and kiss him.
Our kiss is all consuming. It’s the type of kiss that leaves you always wanting more . . . leaves you always thinking of the other person. The kiss is two puzzle pieces finally fitting together. We’re both trying to deepen the kiss, becoming more needy with each parting of our lips. Each desperate moan crawls up our throats, leaving us panting and wanting more.
Before fully pulling away, I kiss him on the cheek. I try to gather my composure enough to tell him goodnight before I cross lines I know I won’t be able to come back from. I smile up at him before I slip through the doorway. Jensen smiles back and there’s a look in his eyes I know all too well. Without another word I turn back to the house, leaving him on the dimly lit porch.
“Goodnight, my Serenity.” I hear as I disappear into the dark hall leading toward my room. I know tomorrow we can no longer pretend to simply be just friends again.