Chapter 51
His hands slip into my hair as he holds my head and tips it back. Purple sparks fizzle in the spaces around our skin, buzzing in the air, almost like they sense this thing swelling between us.
I try not to examine it too closely. I lose myself in the moment. In the warmth in my limbs and the heat in my stomach as our tongues slide together. He moans into my mouth, flattening himself against me, his hips guiding mine against the cold stone at my back and the feverish blanket of his body.
His hands slide lower, curving over my rib cage and my hips, while I slip my hands up the back of his shirt, exploring velvet skin stretched over valleys of bone and muscle.
He leans in to suck on the curve of my throat, and I tip my head, inviting him in. A small gasp escapes my lips when his leg presses between my thighs. He grabs my hips, fingers digging into flesh, generating a desperate sort of friction.
My stomach swirls, molten ribbons spiraling out as his fingers slip under my top, the fire of his fingertips pulling up gooseflesh over my skin.
We move together, hips churning and bodies flush. The swirl of my hips meets the breadth of his thigh, the heaviness beneath my navel tightening. I light up. I burn down. I become liquid.
It takes only a minute before I burst apart with a breathy moan, deep and bottomless like the shadowy reaches of some unnamed universe.
I cling to him, and he devours me as the wind howls and amethyst light explodes across the sky.
He sighs into the curve of my throat, collapsing against me, caging me between his arms, drowning me in his scent.
We come up for air, our gazes meeting in a hazy darkness illuminated by the storm. His expression is bright with fire and want. Brimming with a thousand words. Slowly, he peppers kisses to my shoulders and throat and finally meets my mouth before pulling away.
Another flash of Spark sears across the landscape, and we both look up as a few drops of rain begin to fall.
“We should get back,” he says, pushing off me and taking my hand. “Before anyone notices we’re gone.”
I nod, though even that feels uncertain. Rook literally knocked the wind out of me, and I’m having a hard time catching my breath. He leans in, cupping my neck and consuming me again, fast and hard.
One last kiss stolen under an amethyst sky.
“We really need to go.” He pulls me more insistently.
Then we head back, stumbling onto the subway like our limbs have given up. We find a spot near the window before the train hurtles us back to the heart of the city.
We’re about halfway home when it stops at a busy station, passengers filtering in and out.
To my right sits a market, still bustling with life despite the waning hour.
I’ve always maintained a tepid fascination with the vast variety of wares available underground, though I haven’t explored the markets much.
My gaze snags on a Hollow sitting against a pillar. It takes me a moment to process her face. It’s the same woman I recognized months ago. The one who reminded me of my former nanny.
I lean closer, squinting through the glass. She takes a sip from a water bottle in her hand before wiping her mouth in a gesture that is so familiar.
She looks over, and our eyes meet with another flicker of recognition.
Suddenly, I’m moving. “Poet?” Rook asks. “Where are you going?”
I shove off the train, sensing Rook behind me as I push through the crowd. I lose sight of the woman as I’m jostled left and right, but I keep fighting against the tide.
After we emerge, I locate the pillar, but the woman is gone. I spin around and around, finding only a nondescript sea of people in every direction I look.
“Poet?” Rook asks. “What’s going on?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know. I thought I saw someone I recognize.”
“Who?” he asks.
I exhale a breath, suddenly feeling silly. “I’m not sure,” I say, understanding how unbelievable that sounds, but he doesn’t press the matter.
“Okay,” he says. “Do you want to keep looking?”
I take another glance at our surroundings and decide I imagined the entire thing. “No. We should get back.”
“You’re sure.”
“Yeah, I was mistaken.”
He nods reluctantly and leads me back to the platform, where we wait for the next train to arrive. We return to our room without being spotted and take turns changing in the bathroom. When Rook comes out, he’s wearing only his pajama bottoms.
My cheeks flush as I think about our night. I have a feeling that’s going to happen a lot.
He must be harboring similar thoughts because he gives me a warm look that sends shivers down my spine.
“Everything okay?” he asks, probably wondering why I’m just standing in the middle of the room.
“I was wondering . . .” I fiddle with the hem of my tank top. “If you wanted to sleep next to me tonight?”
Again, I can’t fathom what possessed me to say that.
He smiles slowly as he approaches and places a finger under my chin. He searches my face, and I can’t determine what I read in his expression. Does he regret what we did? Am I being too much?
“Never mind,” I say, pulling away. “That was silly.”
“No,” he says, reaching down to lace my fingers with his. “It’s not silly. It’s just . . . I don’t want to make any assumptions about what this is between us, but there are some things you should know about me before we get any closer.”
My brows draw together. “Okay,” I say. “So tell me. I want to know everything about you.”
“Do you really?” he asks, something pointed in the question. “Because once you know, you can’t unlearn certain things.”
“This is very cryptic,” I say as anger twists in my stomach and I release his hand. “If you don’t want to ‘get closer,’ you don’t have to make stuff up just to scare me.”
“I’m not,” he answers with so much sincerity that I find myself believing him. “You and I come from different worlds, Poet.”
“I know that,” I say, blinking up at him. “You think I don’t know that?”
“There are so many things you don’t understand about the Wastes, and I’ve had to do some things I’m not proud of to survive. I worry once you know, you won’t look at me the way you are now.”
“Whatever it is, I’ll understand,” I insist. “I would never judge someone for surviving.”
He nods, though I’m not sure he’s convinced.
“You can tell me,” I say.
“Not yet,” he answers. “But I do want to get closer.”
“Even though I’m trouble?”
He smirks, leaning in, his big hand sliding into the curve of my lower back. “Even then. Your bed or mine?”
“Doesn’t matter,” I say with a shrug, trying for casual and failing. Taking my hand, he tugs me toward my corner and drops down onto my mattress. He scoots back, and then I slide in beside him.
He folds me into the circle of his arms, and I trace a tiny scar on his chest. I think about what he just said, wondering what he’s endured living in a world so different from mine.
I want to find a way to earn his trust so he’ll let me in and share all his secrets, no matter how ugly they are.
“Okay?” he asks, and I nod, snuggling into him.
“It’s been so long since . . .” I swallow my words. I was about to say it’s been so long since I felt connected to anyone, but I barely know Rook, and I can’t say that out loud.
Still, I haven’t experienced any real sort of affection outside of Trinity in a long time, and lying in Rooks’s arms cracks open a fissure in my heart. Maybe it’s the way he’s been so kind, even though I don’t deserve it. Maybe I’m desperate for any sort of acceptance.
Maybe he understands what I’m not saying, because his arms tighten around me before he kisses the top of my head and mumbles, “Get some sleep, Poet.”