Awakening You
Page 32

“They’re not going to take you!” I shout, startling the both of us. I try to calm myself down, but it’s like there are these waves inside me, roaring and swirling, and I feel like I’m drowning in the center of it. “Nothing’s going to happen to you, and you’re not going to go look for these places. Promise me you won’t do it. Ever.”
His eyes widen as he gapes at me in horror. That’s when I realize tears are pouring from my eyes and down my cheeks. We hardly ever fight—I hardly ever fight with anyone—but the idea of him doing something stupid that could potentially lead to me losing him is making me feel like I’m losing my damn mind.
I can’t ever lose him.
Ever. Ever. Ever.
Let the ocean take me away and drown me in rage.
I’ll give myself away,
Just as long he stays safe.
And never, ever goes away.
“Lyric, I get that you’re upset, but—”
“No, you don’t get it,” I cut him off, sounding calmer. “You don’t care about yourself, so I don’t think you realize how much it would kill me if something happened to you, because you don’t think someone can care about you that much. But I care about you that much.”
“It wouldn’t kill—”
“I love you.” Probably the worst moment ever to say it, but what’s done is done and I’m not going to take it back. Honestly, I kind of feel better, like I got a few tiny rays of sunshine back.
I step toward him, feeling calm as a summer day. “If you care about me at all, you’ll promise you won’t go looking for these places, and you’ll let the police do it.” I lift my hand and hitch my pinkie toward him. “In fact, you’ll pinkie swear on it.”
He opens his mouth in a protest, but then his jaw snaps shut. He does the movement repeatedly, as if I shocked his voice right out of him. Then he searches my eyes for something with his face contorted in puzzlement.
“All right,” he finally says as he loops his pinkie with mine. “I pinkie swear I won’t go look for the places and will just talk to the police about it.”
I suck back my tears. “Good.”
A moment or two drifts by before we pull away. Another handful of seconds tick by before anyone says anything.
“Can I kiss you and make it better?” He chews on his bottom lip, mulling something over. “I don’t like seeing you cry, especially when I’m the one who caused it.”
I dry my tears from my cheeks then nod, and he seals his lips to mine, giving me the softest kiss.
The longer we kiss under the stars, the more I feel at peace. It doesn’t matter if he didn’t say I love you back. I wasn’t expecting him to. I just needed to let him know how much I care about him, and I think I did exactly that.
Besides, deep down, in his own way, I think he might love me. I can tell through his little touches, kisses, smiles, and how he agreed to do something tonight that he didn’t really want to do, but felt he needed to because he didn’t want to see me hurt.
Words are just words
That pass across lips.
Actions show more
Than words ever can understand.
Ayden’s actions are beautiful,
And tell me all I need to know,
Feed my soul and give me hope.
“What can I do to make tonight up to you?” he asks when we finally come up for air.
“You don’t need to make anything up to me.” I hitch my arms around him. “We had our first fight. So what? It was bound to happen sometime.”
“Okay, then what should we do to celebrate”—he glances at the hot tub—“because I think sitting in the hot tub is off the table.”
I thrum my finger against my lip. “I have an idea.”
He eyes me over with suspicion. “You have that look in your eye.”
“What look?” I bat my eyelashes innocently.
He gives me a blank stare. “The look that means you’re about to get us into trouble.”
“I promise we won’t get in trouble. You might not be too thrilled about it, though.”
Before he can press for more details, I snatch ahold of his hand and drag him toward his house.
As we’re rounding the fence, I notice a maroon SUV parked in front of his house.
“So, that’s the infamous detective?” I smile at the car and give a little wave.
“You’re such a weirdo,” he jokes then steers me toward the backdoor of his house.
The alarm goes off when we enter, and he hurries through the darkness to turn it off. I flip on the lights and bend down to untie my boots.
I feel him move up behind me before I actually see him.
“Hey.” I stand upright, my back aligning with his chest.
As he circles his arms around my waist, the air feels electric, sharp zaps biting at my skin.
He rests his chin on my shoulder. “So, what did you want to do?”
“I was thinking we could work on that song we’ve been writing . . . and you could sing it for me.”
“I knew you were up to something, but I already told you I can’t sing.”
“I’ll be the one to decide that.” I start to turn around to head for the kitchen, but he tightens his hold on me.
“Are you sure that’s what you want to do?” There’s a playfulness to his voice that’s got me really curious where he’s going with this.
“Yeah, you kind of owe me.” It’s a lie. He doesn’t owe me anything, but I really want to hear him sing.