Chapter 13 #2
He sets two half-full boxes of cereal in front of me. He gives me a half-exasperated, half-deeply concerned look before setting both on the counter. "Your yogurt is expired. These are the only other things in your house."
"Yeah."
"Blue, you need more food in your house than this."
"I'm fine, Dr. Mercer. I promise I won't waste away," I tease.
He shakes his head and opens my cabinet. His forearms flex when he reaches for a bowl. He takes it out and pours cereal into it. Then he slides it in front of me, proclaiming, "It's time to eat."
I don't want cereal. I want him. But I lift the spoon anyway because he's here, and I'll do anything to keep him here longer.
It tastes like cardboard. The second bite's like nothing. But the third tastes like stability, because he doesn't look away while I swallow it.
I force down half the bowl of dry cereal before setting the spoon aside. "Is that enough?"
He studies me for a long, heavy moment. "For now."
The relief that floods me is ridiculous. "Good. Can we sit on the couch?"
He hesitates.
I lie, "I'm a little tired. A blanket sounds nice right now."
Approval fills his expression. "Okay."
I move to the couch.
He puts a blanket over me.
I pat the seat next to me. "Sit. You're making me nervous."
He stares at the seat, but finally sits.
Happy, I curl one knee up, leaning slightly toward him. The warmth rolling off his body hits my skin, and the air between us thickens.
He exhales, slow and controlled, like sitting this close to me takes more discipline than anything he's done today. His eyes dart over me. He says, "You're shaking less."
"Because you're here. Taking care of me," I add.
He closes his eyes briefly, as if that admission affects him more than he wants it to. Then he opens them and says, "Blue, we need to talk about what happened in my office."
I whisper, "I don't want to talk. Not about that."
"We have to."
"No, we don't." I lean in closer, lowering my voice. "You walked me home. You sat in my kitchen and made me eat. Now, we're sitting on the couch together. That's what matters."
His pupils flare into a tiny, traitorous reaction that he tries to mask. His throat flexes as he swallows. His tone's rougher than before. "This isn't what you think it is."
My pulse jumps. "Then tell me what it is."
He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. He looks torn, almost pained.
It's intoxicating to know I can do that to him.
He finally repeats, "I'm worried about you."
"I know."
"I'm trying to help you stabilize."
"I know that too."
"You need rest."
"And you need to stay."
He freezes, not in shock but in dangerous awareness.
"Blue…"
"I won't sleep if you leave." The words fall out soft, honest. "I want you here. I'm calm when you're here."
He looks away. His jaw clenches, and he wrestles with whatever code of ethics he's built his life on.
When he finally looks back, the decision is already made in his eyes. "I'm not leaving yet."
My world steadies instantly. A warmth spreads from my chest all the way down to my fingers, a slow, blooming heat that makes me bold. I shift my foot under the table until my toes brush his.
He tenses, but he doesn't pull away.
My breath quickens. His eyes drop to my mouth before he snaps them back up to mine. It's a flicker so fast, he probably thinks I didn't see it.
I did.
The air crackles with something electric, forbidden, irresistible.
He came into my apartment.
He fed me.
He's staying.
This is how things begin.
Red slides closer to the end of the couch, as if the cushions will protect him, taking controlled breaths. But his spine is too straight. He fights himself, and I can see it. So every second of it makes the air thicker.
I wait him out, too electrified to speak.
He finally says, "You should lie down. You need rest."
"I can't. Not yet."
His brow furrows. "Why not?"
I swallow hard. My heart beats so loudly, I'm sure he hears it. "Because I need something first."
He shifts, wary. "What do you need?"
My voice is soft, shaky, but certain. "A kiss."
His entire body goes still.
The silence between us cracks like ice.
His voice is too low, too tight. "I can't do that."
I eliminate the distance between us. I drag my finger over his chin, urging, "You can. You just don't want to admit it."
His jaw flexes, but he shakes his head. "It's not appropriate. It crosses every line. It would be taking advantage of you."
I argue, "No, it wouldn't. It would give me one thing I've never had."
He stares at me.
I murmur, "I'm twenty-five, and I've never been kissed. I don't even know what it feels like. And I can't sleep. Not tonight, or ever, without knowing what it's like to kiss a man. And I choose you, Red."
His chest rises sharply, like the words punched the air out of him.
"I can't do that, Blue," he says, but it doesn't sound convincing.
I breathlessly permit, "You can. Please. Just once. So I can stop imagining and finally rest."
He drags a hand over his mouth, exhaling through his fingers as though he's praying for strength. He mutters, "This isn't fair."
I gently graze my fingers down his arm, retorting, "Nothing about this is fair. But you're the one I trust. You're the one I saved myself for without realizing it. And I'm asking."
His eyes close. His throat moves slowly and torturously. He swallows, then his voice comes out ragged. "If I kiss you, everything changes."
I nod, moving my lips near his ear, and softly asserting, "Good. Let it."
He stands abruptly, like he needs distance.
The second he moves, I reach for his hand, my fingertips catching his. I plead, "Don't run from me. From us."
He freezes.
The room becomes unbearably hot.
He looks down at my hand, then slowly lifts his gaze to mine. Something in him breaks. It morphs in his expression, turning so dark that I shudder with anticipation.
I murmur, "Lean into your needs, Red."
His eyes lock into mine as if in a trance. Or maybe I'm in it. All I know is he's shifted past the boundary line he tries to keep.
"Let me want you," I whisper. Then I add, "Want me back, just for a kiss. Then I'll sleep. I promise."
He sinks back onto the couch beside me, closer this time, his breath uneven.
My heart slams against my ribs so hard, I think it might bruise me from the inside.
His hand comes up and cups my cheek with the gentleness of someone touching something fragile.
The moment his skin meets mine, my entire body trembles.
All of me. My breath. My hands. My thighs. Even the spot low in my stomach that's been aching for days. Heat rushes through me so fast, I gasp.
He doesn't miss it. His lips wickedly curl. His thumb brushes my cheekbone in a barely-there stroke, and my eyes flutter closed against my will.
"Blue," he mutters like a curse.
"Y-yes," I barely get out.
He slowly leans closer, his restraint fraying like threads pulled one by one. His breath hits my mouth, warm against my lips.
Every nerve in my body rises toward it, begging, reaching, trembling. I implore, "Please."
His control snaps. A low, guttural groan escapes him. It vibrates through the small space between us, sending a violent shiver racing down my spine.
My knees weaken even though I'm sitting. My fingers clutch the front of his shirt, needing him anchored to me, and not second-guessing this.
He grasps the back of my hair, firmly gripping it into a fist at the back of my head.
I whimper, shaking harder.
He dips his lips to my collarbone, pressing them to my skin.
"Oh," I burst out, squeezing my thighs.
His mouth and a tiny flick of his tongue travel up my neck, soft, ruining, unraveling every last thread of restraint I thought I had left.
He grips my hair tighter, murmuring in my ear with a hoarse voice, "Fuck, Blue."
"Yes," I blurt out, closing my eyes, mouth open, barely able to inhale.
His mouth moves across my chin, and it's barely a kiss at first.
It detonates something so deep inside me, I nearly break apart. Heat floods me in a dizzying wave. My breath stutters, and my whole body trembles uncontrollably.
A helpless groan rumbles in his chest, then he grabs my hip, tugs me over him, and slides his tongue in my mouth, circling it at an agonizingly slow pace.
I give in to it like it's oxygen, letting him take control of me, our kiss, and the wild, aching need that's been clawing its way through my chest for days.