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He looked at me then, our eyes locking, the heat building up within me once more. And I felt…I felt sorrow. I felt so much sorrow for him. Because I truly understood what it was like to live his life, to feel like no one loved you. To walk your days feeling like you were worthless. And no one deserved to live their lives like that.Nobody.

I don’t know what happened. I don’t know what came over me, or why a sudden boldness swept through me, causing me to behave in a way I knew another version of myself would have been mortified by. I don’t know why…

But when I stepped backwards, I didn’t let go of his arms. I pulled him to follow me, and it feltright.And when I led himback to my bed, continuing to pull him along as I climbed onto the mattress, I wasn’t afraid. And when he sat on the bed next to me, his eyes never leaving mine, I felt the strangest sense of calm and reassurance.

Something came over me, and without a single second of hesitation, I straddled him, feeling the heat radiating off him. And I relished the way his entire body shifted underneath me, wavering, trembling, shuddering. My hands traveled up his shoulders and around his neck. One hand found the small band holding back his hair. Looping my finger through it, I tugged, slipping it off his soft locks and watched as his hair fell loosely. My fingers drifted through the strands, feeling them glide through my fingertips.

“You wear your hair so much longer now,” the words slipped from my lips. And I was close to him, sitting so that my face was only a few inches away from his. And I liked it. I wanted this closeness. It felt good,intoxicating.

Wes opened his mouth, hesitating, before saying, “My dad hates it.”

I smiled at his silent act of defiance. And in that moment, after watching his dad go psycho at dinner and learning what an ass he truly was, I found his long hairsexy as hell. I ran my hands through it, feeling Wes’s body tense underneath me as I reveled in the way the soft strands flowed between my fingers.

“Then Idefinitelylike it better this way,” I whispered. I didn’t mean to say it aloud, but I also didn’t care. Fire was catching inside me, simmering low but spreading like the light of the morning sun. I leaned into him further. Wine was so good, so forgiving. Wine made you not care, and Idefinitelydidn’t care.

“Mara,” Wes whispered before swallowing hard. “This isn’t… I should go.” He shifted, hands gentle on my hips as he tried to move me off of him.

“Wait.” My hand snapped out, gripping his shirt just below the collar. He froze. My heart thundered in my chest. Anticipation crawled up my spine. Why? Why did the thought of him leaving scare me so much?

My lips parted, the words hanging in the air, but I was confused. There was so much going on inside of me, so many feelings that I wasn’t sure what was real or just the wine. And when he moved underneath me, words I didn’t realize I was going to say tumbled out from my soul. “Stay with me?”

Wes stiffened, and all I felt as my palm slid over his chest was the rapid beating of his heart. “Are…are you sure?”

I don’t know what happened. Maybe it was the way he tipped his head down and asked me with vulnerable eyes. Maybe it was the hint of hope in his voice, encased in a dare for me to accept him. Hell, maybe it was the wine talking. But at that moment, I wanted nothing else. And I didn’t care if he knew it.

“Yes.” The moment the word escaped my lips, my pulse raced. And I waited. I watched as his eyes flickered, hesitation etched along the lines of face. And as if to seal the deal, one more word fell from my loose tongue, “Please.”

Wes shuddered. The tension slipped from his shoulders. The hard lines fell away, and a sweet, simple softness crept in. I loosened my grip on his shirt and allowed my other hand to travel along his chest, feeling the firmness of his pectoral muscles. I slipped off him, took his hand, and pulled him back further onto the bed. And with gentle pressure, eased him back onto the mattress, his head on my pillow. I crawled in beside him, molding myself to his form, placing my cheek on his chest.

And it feltright.

We laid there in silence for several minutes, the world spinning around us as I tried to understand what was happening inside of me. Then a thought crept into my consciousness…something Edith had said to me. I closed my eyes, feeling the rise and fall of Wes’s chest. “What’s your favorite color?”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, and all I heard was the breath flowing through his lungs until he finally said, “Green. Why?”

“No reason. I just thought maybe it was something I should know.” Sleep was calling to me, my entire body feeling heavier against him.

Silence stretched for another minute, and then I heard the deep timbre of his voice whisper, “What’s yours?”

The question drifted through the consciousness I was barely hanging onto, and the words fell from my lips without hesitation, completely unchecked, as dreams sung my name. “Gold,” I muttered, “like your eyes.”

Wes’s body stiffened. I heard his heart beat harder and faster, giving away his secrets. It whispered to me. Whispered that I surprised him, just as I had surprised myself. I listened quietly as his heart settled, the tension easing in his body, softening under me. His breath slowed, coming in deeper, fuller.

I listened…and I liked it.

And that left a little knot of worry deep within me.

37: Climb

Iopened my eyes. As soon as the light hit them, I slammed them closed, and a throb in my head came alive like a wicked beast.

What the hell happened last night?

Blowing out my breath, I attempted to open my eyes once more. Just a crack, testing the light, and groaned, hating how my head felt. I was still wearing my jeans, curled up on my left side. I shifted, trying to sit up.

Well, I spilled something on my clothes last night.I ran a finger over the dry blotch of red on my pant leg, remembering burgundy liquid sloshing out of my glass and onto my pants.

Dinner.