Page 37 of Little Pieces of Light

Xander

Dad was playing the piano again, clunky chords on our rickety piano…

I came groggily out of sleep, then realized the sound wasn’t coming from downstairs but from my phone on the bedside table.

The clock radio said it was nearly one in the morning, and outside my window, the rain was coming down in torrents.

I fumbled for my spare glasses and instantly sat upright when I saw who was calling.

I slid the answer bar. “Emery? What’s wrong?”

Because I knew instinctively something had happened. Something bad.

“Xander,” she said tearfully, over the sound of the driving rain. “I need you. Can you…can you help me?”

“Where are you?”

“I…I don’t know. He just left me.”

“Who? What happened?” I jumped out of bed and wrestled my jeans on with one hand. “Never mind, tell me where you are.”

“I’m on a road somewhere. In the Bend, I think.”

My head whipped to the window streaked with rain. “You’re outside ?” I threw on a shirt and fought for calm. “Emery, drop me a pin. Okay?”

“O-okay.”

She was shivering. Teeth chattering.

He just left me…

Tucker.

Fury boiled in me and a red haze descended over my eyes, but the ping of a dropped pin brought me back. She was in my neighborhood, maybe a three-minute drive, but the houses were spread out and she was in the dark, in the pouring rain…

“Emery, I see you. I’m really close, okay? I’ll be right there.”

“Okay,” she said, her voice small.

“Don’t hang up. I’m putting you on speaker.” I tossed my phone on the bed, so I could pull on my sweatshirt and shoes.

“Thank you, Xander.”

Jesus Christ, I thought my insides were going to combust from the mix of fear and rage.

He’d better have only left her in the rain. If he touched her…if he hurt her in any way…

Then I was going to jail, end of story.

“Emery, you still there?” I asked and ran down the stairs. The house was quiet, thank God, my dad sleeping.

“I-I’m here.”

I grabbed my keys, then stopped at what made for a linen closet off the kitchen and grabbed an old camping blanket.

“I’m coming, Em.” I rushed into the garage. “Three minutes.”

“Okay.”

I threw the car into reverse and pulled out of the garage. Immediately, the windshield was doused, as if someone had thrown a bucket of water onto it.

“Fucking Christ.”

I drove into the night, into a downpour that showed no signs of letting up but was nothing compared to the storm boiling inside me.

He left her in this. He left her. I left her…

I’d left Emery.

If anything had happened to her that couldn’t be taken back, I’d never forgive myself. Not in this life or the next, or in any of the infinite possible lifetimes that might await me in the cold, black universe.

It took everything I had not to drive like a maniac. The only thing slowing me down was the thought that she’d be stranded if I skidded in the rain and wrapped the Buick around a tree.

After what felt like an eternity, my headlights splashed over a lone figure pressed against the trunk of a huge, white oak. She wore a black coat over a red dress, both clinging to her as if she’d swam in them.

Dammit to hell.

I pulled over, threw the car in park but left the engine running.

With the blanket in my arms, I raced out of the car and was instantly drenched.

When I reached Emery, I threw the blanket over her, wrapping her in a cocoon.

Her hair was plastered around her face, her eye makeup streaking her cheeks in black tears.

“How long have you been out here?” I shouted over the rain.

“I-I don’t know,” she cried. “Not long, but…”

“Long enough. God, Em.” I wrapped her in my arms in a fierce embrace. She clung to me tightly, and for a long moment, I just held her.

I’m not letting go. Never again…

“Come on,” I said gruffly, my voice thick. “I’ll take you home.”

I reached for the passenger door, but she tugged my hand. “I’m not going to my house tonight. I can’t stand the fucking thought of it.”

“But, Em…”

“Take me to your house, Xander. Please.”

Embarrassment at the idea of showing her my shabby little house flashed through me, but I was only going to do what she wanted.

I hustled her into the front seat of the car and came to take the wheel. Inside, water dripped from my hair and spotted my glasses so I could hardly see. I shut the door and cranked the heat all the way up while the rain pelted the roof and hood like stones.

“What happened?” I asked, my voice dangerously low. I took off my glasses and tried to dry the lenses on my sodden sweatshirt. “What did he do? It was Tucker, right?”

She nodded.

My jaw clenched as I turned the car around and headed back to my house. “Tell me.”

Emery started to speak, then peered closer. “Wait, what happened to your face? Your cheek is puffy…”

“Doesn’t matter. I deserve worse if…” I bit off my words. “Tell me everything.”

She faced forward, warming her hands on the heater, and told me what happened as I navigated the darkened streets through the rain-splattered windshield. She told me about the party, Senator Hill’s loss, and how Tucker was upset and wanted to take her home. To talk.

I listened with mounting anger, my sore muscles tensing with every word.

“Tucker was drunk, but I didn’t see how badly until it was too late. Instead of taking me home, he drove me here. He said he was tired of being used. Then he pulled the truck over and said that it was time I paid up.”

“What does that mean?” I asked, my heart thudding in my chest like a jackhammer.

“God, it’s so humiliating,” she said, shaking her head miserably.

“He wanted me to have sex with him, and I said no. And he didn’t want to hear no.

Nothing happened,” she added quickly as a strangled sound escaped me.

“I slapped him, and it sobered him a little. He told me to get out of the truck. So I did.”

My house appeared in front of us. I pulled into the garage and shut off the engine, then gripped the steering wheel.

“Nothing happened?” I asked, my voice stony. “He didn’t…? Because I swear to God, Emery, if he hurt you…”

“He didn’t hurt me, I promise. And it’s all my fault anyway—”

“ It’s not your fault ,” I said, practically shouting. “It’s not your fault. Not one fucking thing that happened tonight was your fault.”

Emery nodded, though I don’t know that she believed me. I tried to feel relieved that Tucker hadn’t forced himself on her, but she wouldn’t have been in that situation in the first place if I’d been there for her.

I pushed out of the car and went around to her side. Wrapping an arm around her, I guided her through the dark house and up the stairs to my loft, lit by the yellow glow of my desk lamp.

“We have to get you warm,” I said. “Wait here.”

In my bathroom, I flipped on the light. The fluorescent glare revealed its plainness, but at least it was clean. I started the shower and hurried back to my bedroom, where Emery stood shivering.

I riffled through my dresser and grabbed a pair of drawstring pants and an old Langdon sweatshirt.

I set them on the bathroom counter with a clean towel, then went back for Emery.

I started to take the blanket from her, but she gripped my wrists.

Her blue eyes, streaked with mascara and red with tears, met mine.

“Do you want to know what I thought when you came to get me tonight?” she asked. “When you put this blanket around me? I thought…now I’m where I’m supposed to be.”

My eyes fell shut, my heart aching. “I’m sorry, Emery. I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t have to be. I should never have gotten in that truck.”

“And if I’d been there, you wouldn’t have.” She started to protest but gave up as I guided her to the bathroom. “You’re freezing. Get warmed up, and I’ll make you some tea, okay?”

She nodded and shut the door behind her.

I sagged as the adrenaline and raw emotion of the night drained away.

A shiver reminded me I was soaking wet too.

I changed into sweatpants and a T-shirt, then went to the kitchen.

The old kettle took forever to heat. When the water was hot enough, I made mint tea and took a steaming mug back to my loft.

There, I shut the door and turned to see Emery at my desk.

Her face was scrubbed clean, her damp hair glistening like dark gold ribbons.

My sweatshirt hung loose on her, and the sleep pants I’d lent her spilled over her small feet.

And in her hand was the dried daffodil.

I froze, my throat tightening and my heart stuttering at her beauty, as the unmistakable, undeniable truth washed over me—as obvious as the flower in her hand.

I’m hers. I’ve always been hers.

“I didn’t mean to pry, but this is the book you were reading when we met.”

“Yes,” I said thickly. “You remember that?”

“I remember every minute of that day, Xander. Every second.”

“So do I.”

“Because it meant something, didn’t it?” she asked, her eyes so full of love and hope, I could hardly look at her, she was so beautiful.

“Yeah, Em,” I whispered. “It meant everything.”

Emery smiled softly. Knowingly. And with that smile, the fight went out of me. All the hesitation, the walls of reasons and logic I’d barricaded myself behind…it all came crashing down.

Everything that happened after was as inevitable as my next breath.

I set down the mug of tea on my desk, and she returned the flower to its place.

I brushed the hair off her shoulders while she took my glasses off and set them beside the tea.

In the next instant, she was in my arms. I pulled her in close and bent to press my forehead to hers, leaving only the smallest, heated space between us.

“Hi,” she whispered.

“Hi,” I answered gruffly.

“I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.” I swallowed hard. “Emery…”

“I know you’re scared of being hurt. So am I.

But I think that what we feel for each other is more powerful than fear.

And we can’t think about what might happen later.

” Her hands went to my hair, her fingers threading at my nape.

“We have to trust that it will work itself out. Because you and me…something happened that day seven years ago, and we can’t pretend it didn’t.

” She smiled, her lips close to mine. “We’re entangled. ”

I nodded and pulled back to look into her eyes. “Whatever happens to you, happens to me.”

Emery made a little sound that was half sob, half laugh, her expression one of pure happiness and want—want of me .

It illuminated her from the inside out. I bent my head, savoring the smoldering burn a little longer—this first touch would never come again—before lowering my mouth to hers and kissing her.

Our lips met, and I nearly stumbled as raw hunger swept through me, trying to steal my strength. I’d dreamt of this moment countless times, imagining how she’d feel, how she’d taste, and yet, I was unprepared for reality.

Emery’s soft mouth parted with a little gasp, as if she too was shocked by the intensity of our connection.

We moved apart just a tiny bit, our eyes meeting, before we crashed together again.

Our arms tightened, pressing our bodies together—her softness against my hardness.

She whimpered as my tongue ventured into her mouth, tasting and touching—gently at first, then with urgency.

Making up for lost time. Every kiss we should have had before this night was in this one.

Our lost time reclaimed; our lost connection rebuilt. Finally. At last.

Emery responded with soft moans, letting me in, her tongue tangling with mine.

Exploring with soft curiosity but heat too.

Desire that simmered, wanting to ignite into something more…

but not tonight. Tonight was to show her, with this kiss, that she had been right about everything.

To infuse this moment with the warmth and satiation of our reunion.

Because that’s what it was. Not just seven years or seven weeks but lifetimes were in this kiss, bursting forth after lying dormant and waiting.

The notion made no sense; I could only measure its veracity by the force of the need, the sheer relief of this coming together.

Emotions that defied logic left my head reeling.

Thoughts cleared away to make space for the pure desire I had for this girl.

Desire to have her, protect her, and give myself up to her, all at the same time.

All I knew was Emery, and she was all that mattered.

Finally I pulled back to look at her. Take her in. By the yellow light of my lamp, her cheeks were flushed, her lips swollen and full. But the night had exhausted her.

She smiled as her eyes fell shut, and she rested her head on my chest. My arms went around her, holding her tight, my hand stroking her hair.

“My Xander…” she murmured.

“Come on,” I said, and kissed her forehead. “You need to sleep.” I guided her to the bed and covered her with my comforter. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“Not on your life,” she said, her eyes closing as soon as her head touched the pillow.

I chuckled and shut off the light, then climbed into bed beside her. She reached for me at once, and I pulled her in close. Our arms and legs entwined, so that I didn’t know where she ended and I began.

I held her until she fell asleep—it took only moments until her breaths grew deep and even—and then I let myself fall too, wrapped in her.

Entangled.