90
EMERSYN
The next few days were a blur. Every chance we could, Griffin and I escaped into a corner somewhere to make out. I felt like maybe this was how a teenager felt sneaking around with their crush. We’d emerge from a closet or a spare bedroom with disheveled looks and glazed expressions.
Everyone knew. No one cared.
At night, the three of us slept in the same bed.
It had become a type of unspoken agreement that none of us brought up.
I think it was the best sleep the three of us had gotten in a long time.
At least for me it was, and I hadn’t had a nightmare since.
I always thought I wanted space when I slept, maybe because I’d always been visited without my consent, but there was something incredibly comforting when we woke up tangled together—everyone touching something of the other, as though we needed to anchor each other.
Unfortunately, nothing had progressed past kissing.
I desperately wanted it to, but every time I tried to push things, Griffin would say he wanted to take his time, and we never seemed to have enough of it.
The planning had progressed to daily meetings that we both had to sit through as we hashed out the infil and exfil strategies for getting on and off the island.
Seven was also healing at an exponential rate and had started to venture out of the bedroom during the day for short stretches.
He pushed himself, and Griffin berated him, while Doc just shook his head.
We all knew there was no stopping a stubborn Seven so we soon stopped trying, and everyone seemed happier because of it.
I was doing better with all the people around, but tonight we’d just sat through a larger than normal dinner.
Nothing formal, but people had milled about in the kitchen and dining room as they enjoyed the meal and chatted.
It was catered, much to Nyx’s distress. Yet in the same breath, he’d said he would never cook for that many people.
Atlas had just sighed and made him change the subject.
Needless to say, after being around such a crowd, I needed a break and escaped outside.
I sat on the edge of the pool and watched the dark water swirl around my legs.
I wished it was a river. I missed my forest in the mountains.
I wondered if I’d ever see that place again.
A pang of homesickness hit—for a place that had shown me not to fear the darkness.
A place that had taught me that regardless of how much death surrounded us, there would always be life that rose from the deadfall.
I heard the whisper of the sliding glass door open and Seven’s footsteps.
I knew he was being deliberate so as not to startle me.
He was a tracker. If he wanted to be silent he would have been nearly impossible to detect.
He arrived at my side but didn’t sit. He dangled a bottle of beer next to my face.
I looked up as I took it automatically and gave him a smile.
It was great to see him on the mend, but I think a lot of it was him putting on a stoic face so he didn’t get benched once we went after Mahoney.
I wished he’d stay home and heal fully, but how could I ask that of him when I myself refused to stay home?
He rolled up his jeans and stuck his legs in the pool.
He brushed his foot with mine and took a sip of his own beer.
“Needed a break?” He asked.
“Yeah, too many people.”
I took a sip of beer and made a face. I’d forgotten how much I disliked it.
Seven chuckled. “Not a fan?”
I put the bottle down. “Yeah, not my first choice.”
“Are you a whiskey girl? Wine?”
“I don’t really drink,” I said. “But, vodka is probably what I would choose.”
“Ah, that’s so Russian of you,” Seven grinned. “Sacha’s doing?”
“Yeah, but it wasn’t a common thing,” I said.
I frowned. In fact the only time we drank vodka was after I killed the hunters.
I didn’t want to talk about that though.
Maybe that’s why I liked it, because it represented taking back my power.
Seven seemed to realize I didn’t want to talk about the past, because he took another sip of his beer and changed the subject.
“What’s your favorite color?” he asked.
“That’s random,” I said.
He shrugged. “Mine is that dark blue the sky gets when it’s about to go from twilight to full night.”
“Like now?” I looked out across the pool and the lawn and the towering trees at the edge of the property to where the sky still had a faint glow to it, even as the stars were beginning to twinkle.
“Exactly.”
“Mine is dark green. Like the color of the evergreens on a snowy day in the mountains.”
I thought about how my forest looked after the first snow fall. It muted all the colors, while somehow it managed to make the greens, blues and greys more pronounced. Yeah, that was definitely my favorite.
“What’s your favorite season?” I asked.
“Fall. For sure. Visiting apple farms, the color of the trees, the way the afternoons still feel like summer but aren’t sweltering—”
“That surprises me.”
“Because of the clowns?” He predicted.
I nodded and attempted to hide a smile.
“Yeah, I like Fall, not Halloween,” he shivered dramatically. “No, thank you.”
“You don’t hand out Halloween candy?” I teased.
“Nope, I lock my doors and turn off my porch light.” He winked.
Memories of my childhood flashed through my mind.
“My dad would take us around on Halloween,” I said abruptly. “That feels so weird to think about now after everything. It feels like another lifetime—one that maybe wasn’t even mine.” I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. “Did you know I was a twin?”
“I’d heard that, yeah.”
“His name was Cole,” I said. “When we were younger, my parents liked to dress us up as matching sets of things.” I laughed. “He hated it.”
Seven chuckled, and a vivid memory of me and Cole dressed up as peas and carrots, of all things, came to mind. I smiled even through the pain it caused in my heart.
I fell silent. “I think I like winter best.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah, because of Christmas.”
“I didn’t really experience many fun Christmas memories growing up,” Seven admitted lightly and when I looked at him, he shrugged. “Foster care kid.”
“Well, we’ll need to change that,” I declared. “So, you’ve never looked for a pickle on a Christmas tree? Or—”
Seven’s eyebrows rose. “A what?”
“A pickle.”
“A pickle,” he stated.
“Yeah, it’s some sort of German tradition I think—”
“I didn’t know you and North were German.”
“We’re not—”
“Then why?”
I laughed and shrugged. “I don’t know actually. It’s fun though. You’ll see.”
He seemed playfully skeptical. “Alright, I’ll trust you. Hopefully it’s not a real pickle.”
“Of course not!”
He laughed softly. “Alright, what’s your favorite pizza topping? And if you say pineapple, I don’t think we can continue to be friends—”
I looked at him sheepishly.
“No!” He groaned. “Not you too! G insists it’s a topping too. I say fruit doesn’t belong on pizza.”
I laughed. “Isn’t tomato a fruit?”
He frowned. “Okay, that’s—a good point I guess—still, no pineapple!”
“What’s your favorite then?” I asked.
“Olives.”
“Seriously?”
“Yup. Love them. Have you ever had one of the green ones stuffed with bleu cheese?”
I shook my head.
“Oh, you’re missing out. We’ll have to fix that. Even better is a gin martini with stuffed olives—yum.”
I made a face. “Bleu cheese in a drink?”
“Don’t knock it till you try it.”
We settled into a comfortable silence then. He finished his beer and leaned back on his hands. We enjoyed the evening as it deepened, and the stars continued to wink into existence in the night sky.
Seven finally broke the silence. “Nice sweatshirt,” he said and nudged my shoulder.
I smirked. I’d stolen it from him. I missed being wrapped in his scent—in something that was his. I knew he liked it too, because he kept leaving it out in places he knew I’d pick it up.
“Thanks. I was a little disappointed that it didn't have chocolate in the pocket.”
“Damn, you caught me slacking.”
Seven dug into his pocket and pulled out a mini Three Musketeers bar. I laughed, and his face lit up as he handed it over.
“Good thing I’m always prepared,” he teased with a sly smirk.
“Do you always just have them on you?” I exclaimed.
He shrugged. “You never know when you need a quick hit of chocolate.”
I took the candy. “I get the reference now.”
“I thought you might catch on to that,” he chuckled.
I slowly unwrapped the candy and took a bite, then I held it out to him to see if he wanted to share.
Instead of taking the chocolate from me, he gently clasped my wrist and raised my hand to his mouth.
He took a bite of the candy as it rested between my fingers.
His teeth lightly grazed my fingertips and my breath caught.
Those eyes swam with mischief. I didn’t look away as I ate the last bit, then realized he had chocolate on his lip and giggled.
“You have chocolate on your face.”
Seven’s smile was smoldering and had darkened into something provocative. Yet he made no move to close the distance between us, even though I desperately wanted him to. This man, who gave me sweatshirts, and chocolate, and safety in a way that never pushed my boundaries.
Griffin may have been my inevitability, but Seven was my choice. A choice I’d already made but hadn’t acted on. A choice I’d make over and over again because he felt like consent, and safety, and home.
I realized he would never take this from me. Unlike Griffin, there would be no cornering, no big question. Seven was a quiet understanding that if I wanted him, if I wanted this, he was there. He would always be there.
So, I did what I knew I had to do. I climbed onto his lap, thighs pressed on either side of his hips.
His hands went to my waist to steady me, but even there they held restraint and didn’t wander, despite his eyes blown black with desire.
I’d seen glimpses of this look and knew, in the full face of it, how ruinous it would be.
I slid closer to him until my body was flush against hard muscle tight with power he held in check.
“Emersyn.”
My name was a breath in the space between us. A plea, a prayer, something sacred to worship. I moved my thumb carefully across his bottom lip and swiped up the chocolate, then I brought my finger to my mouth and slowly sucked it off.
“Fuck,” Seven muttered. “You’re killing me, little storm.”
I leaned in, took his lower lip between my teeth and gently sucked it into my mouth.
Chocolate, and Seven, and pure sin exploded across my tongue.
He groaned a quiet exhalation of relief.
I let his lip pop free, and my hand moved to the side of his face where I caressed the skin of his jaw and gazed into those eyes that I’d disappeared into whenever I’d felt in danger.
I think I’d known for a while that he was my safe place.
I pressed my lips to his and sealed the choice I’d make in this, and every other, timeline.
His hands traveled up my back and gathered in my hair as he deepened the kiss.
His lips moved, his tongue found mine and raw need erupted in my veins.
The stars seemed to fall around us in swirls of deep blue and forest green, as we tangled together, and I lost myself in his passion.
He held me like I was something precious, and the ache of how that made me feel was catastrophic to my heart.
We separated enough to gasp in the cool evening air. A brilliant smile overtook his face as his thumb trailed along the skin below my ear, and he laughed softly.
“I wondered if I’d ever be this lucky,” he whispered.
“What are you talking about? You always win.” I smiled back as I played with a strand of his hair at the back of his neck. “At least before I came into the picture.” My smile turned into a smirk.
“Oh yeah? You think you can beat me?”
“Yup. Anytime, anywhere,” I said playfully. “Anything.”
“Anything, huh?” I watched his eyes jump over my shoulder to the pool and realization hit.
“No—Seven—don’t even think about it!” I wrapped my arms firmly around his neck.
“Think about what?” He gave me the most innocent look ever, and I burst out laughing.
“I see that look, you’re about to do something devious,” I said.
He laughed and wrapped his arms tightly around my waist. “You think so? Like what?”
“Like throw me in—”
“Like this?”
I shrieked as Seven pitched forward, and I had the brief sensation of falling before I hit the water with Seven.
It may have been the end of summer, but the water didn’t get the memo.
It was freezing. Seven’s arms disappeared and I popped up for air, sputtering and wiping water from my eyes.
The sweatshirt was impossibly heavy as it became waterlogged.
“Seven!”
I wrestled the wet fabric off and threw it at him as he came into view.
He laughed with absolute joy, and that mischievous energy I loved about him lit up every part of his face.
I felt a hand snake around my waist and I was yanked into him.
My legs wrapped around his hips and I couldn’t have wiped the smile from my face.
The briefest thought hit me—I was happy. Fear of it all disappearing made a shiver race down my spine. Seven noticed the shadow in my eyes and walked us to the steps. There was a deep knowing in his gaze. He leaned in and nipped my ear.
“You’re allowed to be happy, baby girl,” he rumbled.
“What if it gets taken away from me?” I whispered, not even wanting to voice it out loud. “Again?”
He ran his thumb over my lower lip and kissed me. Lightly at first. I tasted chlorine and that intoxicating taste of Seven I already had started to crave.
“You’re allowed to have this moment, right here, right now,” he said against my lips. “Let the future be what it needs to be. Don’t give it the power to steal from the present.”
I was afraid. But, I knew he was right.
“Besides,” he said, his cocky attitude back in full force. “I’m lucky, remember? I always win and you’re my prize, so by default I think you’re good.”
I laughed because it was so ridiculous. “Is that how it works?”
He answered with a kiss, and I decided maybe he was right.