Fade (7 page)

My life was complicated enough. I felt scared and overwhelmed enough. I didn’t need any more upheaval, and Dace promised exactly that. But I felt drawn to him, connected in a way too amazing to let go.

I frowned and then gave in to the inevitable with a nod of my head.

He fell into step beside me without a word. The dog barked once, and we set off. Neither of us said anything for the longest time. We simply walked along, side by side and lost in our individual thoughts. Mine were running way too fast to even attempt to sort them out, so I didn’t try. I merely walked.

True dark fell within minutes, and I might as well have been blind. Every rut, pile of leaves, root, twig, stick, and branch tripped me.

Dace never faltered. He seemed to know right where to step to avoid the pitfalls littering our path.

The fourth time I stumbled, he spoke up. “Are you the complete independence type or the type not averse to a little help?”

“What do you think?” I asked, tripping over another root.

He was silent for a minute, and then, “I think you’re the latter. I also think you might refuse if I offer you my arm.”

“Oh? What makes you think that?” Not to say he was wrong. I would have considered refusing out of pure preservation. I had the feeling I’d do something crazy and kiss him if he touched me. The desire to feel his lips against mine was pretty dang strong.

Why does darkness always bring out unexpected tendencies in people?

“I have the feeling you’re as nervous about touching me as I am about touching you. You’re wondering if it’ll be as intense as shaking hands was Thursday. And you’re wondering if I’ll find somewhere else to be if it is.”

“Oh.” Well, that was more or less accurate. I hadn’t expected the answer though, especially since it came with such a personal admission from him. He hadn’t willingly ‘fessed up to anything else thus far. I found it a little disconcerting that he did now.

“Well?” he asked.

“Well what?” Oh. Was he right? “You’re half right.”

“Mmm. Only half?”

“I am wondering if you’ll find somewhere else to be, but I don’t have to wonder about touching you. I already know it’ll be intense.”

“How do you know? Last time could have been a fluke.” The doubt in his voice gave him away. He didn’t believe what he said any more than I did.

“Not a chance.”

“Okay then, how many times has that ever happened to you? How many times have you ever felt something like that?”

I laughed humorlessly, stepping over another fallen branch before I broke my neck. “Every time you’ve been anywhere near me so far I’ve felt like that, Dace. I feel like I know you, like I’ve always known you, and that should scare the hell out of me because I
don’t
know you, but it doesn’t. I like the feeling a lot more than I know I should. I like
you
a lot more than I should, and I don’t know why.”

It took me a moment to realize he no longer walked beside me. I stopped and turned.

There wasn’t enough light beneath the trees to see anything more than his vague outline, but energy poured from him and shot like sparks across the few feet that separated us. Breathless anticipation roiled up like lava and crashed through me with the force of an erupting volcano.

Those little nibbling teeth went to work on my skin again.

Dace moved so quickly, I didn’t even see him. One minute he stood a few feet away; the next, he loomed in front of me, so close I could see every feature of his face, feel every warm breath across my cheek. His eyes were vivid green as he stared down at me.

The groan that tumbled from his lips was little more than a desperate exhalation.

The world spun wildly for an instant. When it settled, he had me pressed against a tree, his face inches from mine. His arms were on either side of my head, and he had his knee wedged between my legs, holding me up. Had his knee not been there, I’m sure I would have melted. My entire body burned.

I panted, and so did he.

“You shouldn’t.” He stopped. “You can’t.” Another low growl. “To hell with it.” And then his lips covered mine.

Being touched by him was nothing compared to being kissed by him. Electric. Explosive. Exhilarating. None of it even came close to describing the sensations racing through me.

His hands were all over me as his mouth worked against mine. His kiss was savage, wild, and uncontained. He nipped at my lips and then dipped his tongue into my mouth, back and forth until I thought I would faint from the sensations ripping through me.

The feel of his body pressed to mine had me spiraling out of control.

I dug my nails into his shoulders as his mouth attacked my neck, delivering little, growling bites. His lips against my skin felt even better than the nibbling teeth sensation. Heat piled atop heat until I felt ready to flash to steam and float away on the wind.

I moaned, my mind opening wide.

Dace tore away from me as suddenly as he’d started kissing me.

I cried out at the loss of sensation, unable to stop myself.

My eyes flew open, and I grasped at the tree to remain upright.

He stood a few short steps away, staring at me and panting wildly. I couldn’t see him clearly, but I knew his eyes were wide, the green blotted out by pupils dilated with desire, his nostrils flaring and that muscle in his cheek ticking. He was fighting for control again.

I hated the mere thought. I wanted to beg him to let go, to
please
let go and let me feel whatever lived inside him.

I laid my head back against the tree and touched my lips instead. They were swollen. I didn’t care.
Dear God …
I didn’t finish my prayer either. Praying to God for someone you’ve only just met to take your virginity against a tree probably wouldn’t have gone over too well.

Better if I didn’t think at all.

“Jesus, Arionna,” Dace whispered raggedly.

I looked over at him. “I told you. Every time I’m—”

“Don’t!” he cried, alarmed. “Don’t say it!” He strode the few steps towards me, raised his hand and clamped it lightly over my mouth. “Please don’t,” he half begged. “I swear, Arionna, you’re going to kill me.” He groaned. “You were right. I can’t be near you without … . ” He didn’t finish the thought, saying instead, “Whatever you do, don’t say it, or anything like it. Please.”

I nodded, and he removed his hand.

We stood there facing one another for another minute, just staring. I didn’t know what to think of his reaction, but I couldn’t help but grin smugly. “I think you proved my point for me, Dace.”

He swore and grabbed my arm gently, half dragging me back to the center of the trail. “You truly are trying to kill me.”

I laughed aloud, feeling lighter than I had in weeks.

“How old are you?” he asked as we continued our trek.

“Nineteen. Why?”

“Nineteen,” he murmured, and then, “God save me.” He sighed, but said nothing more.

“How old are you?” I asked after another minute.

“Too old to be kissing teenagers in the middle of the woods.”

“How old?” I said, unsatisfied with his answer.

“Twenty-one.”

Twenty-one. Not so old. “Not too old.”

“Old enough,” he corrected.

I couldn’t argue; he seemed a lot older than twenty-one. I let the subject drop and we kept walking in silence for a while, Dace helping me over the various roots and such that his eyes seemed to pick out instantly while mine skipped right over them. We made it through the woods and back to the park without further conversation or oddities. Relief that I could see whispered through me.

My stomach fluttered.

I waited for Dace to let go of my arm, but he didn’t. We walked through the park, the moon shining overhead.

He slid his hand down and into mine. When we were palm to palm, he laced our fingers together, still not speaking. He looked at me and smiled a little.

His crooked grin made my heart flip.

We walked the remainder of the way to my dad’s with our hands clasped, not saying a word. Dace’s hand was big and warm, and mine nestled in it perfectly. I had a thousand questions which needed answering, but I’d lost the desire to ask them. He was warm and familiar, and I no longer felt so small and vulnerable. I felt safe, peaceful, and content. Not broken at all.

The house looked like a gothic castle in the dark, standing proud amongst the smaller homes on each side. At the porch, our steps slowed then stopped altogether. Neither of us, it seemed, wanted to let the slow, soft feeling spreading between us go yet.

Did he feel the same way I did? Like whatever was happening between us created a buffer between him and the things in his life that sucked?

Why wasn’t I freaking out?

Were the good feelings a betrayal to my mom? Being happy when she’d just died seemed wrong. I felt selfish for wanting to revel in the peaceful feeling, but I did want to revel. If only for a little while longer.

Dad’s car sat in the driveway and the porch light was on, but he didn’t come out of the house to meet me. I figured he wasn’t watching like a hawk for my return yet. It hadn’t been dark long enough for him to worry. He’d been doing a lot of that since I’d moved in.

“So … .” Dace looked at me.

“So … .” I returned, resisting the urge to reach over and trace the tiny scar above his eyebrow. The scar, while no more than a centimeter long, fascinated me. Was it smooth to the touch? How had he gotten it? I wanted to know, but touching him anywhere other than his hand didn’t seem like the safest of ideas.

“I guess I should let you go in. You’re getting cold.”

“I’m not—” I stopped before the denial could fully form. I
was
getting cold. I’d been outside for hours, and the temperature had dropped since night fell. Funny how I hadn’t noticed the chill earlier. “It’s not so bad. I like the cold.”

“Me too.” Dace looked out over the street as if surveying it then turned back to me. “The world is softer when it’s cold.”

“Will I see you again?” I blurted before I could stop myself.

“Do you think it’s a good idea?” He squinted at me in that assessing way of his. “Do you want to?”

“I do.”

“Think it’s a good idea, or want to see me?”

“Want to see you. As for whether it’s a good idea …” I thought about whether to tell him what I truly thought or not. I looked down at our linked hands and decided to go for it. I took a step back and untwined our fingers first though, not quite courageous enough to risk a repeat of that earlier kiss. Not on Dad’s doorstep. “It’s probably not a good idea. But seeing you, I could handle. Not seeing you seems like it’d be a little intolerable, doesn’t it?”

“Does it?” Dace glanced down at the ground and then back up at me. He looked tired again, as if he’d been fighting for too long and didn’t know if he should give in or keep swinging.

The sight made my heart ache. How could someone so perfect seem so sad?

“Probably so,” he murmured, “probably so.”

And with that, he took off as abruptly as the last two times I’d seen him.

I silently watched him until he was out of sight, swallowed by the dark as he jogged down the street. His final words echoed in my head.
Probably so. Probably so.
What did that mean? What didn’t it mean?

Who the hell knew?

With a sigh, I turned and made my way into the house. I was cold, tired, and more confused than I’d been when I set out that afternoon.

“Ari?” Dad yelled as soon as the door closed behind me.

“Hey,” I called, stripping off my coat.

He walked out of the living room, phone in hand and a worried glint in his eyes. “I was about to call you.” He didn’t ask where I’d been, but the question lurked in his concerned expression.

I hated that I’d caused him to worry. “I’m sorry. I went out for a walk in the woods by the park. I didn’t realize it’d take so long to get home.” My explanation was true enough, so far as it went.

“Oh.” He sat the phone on the table at the bottom of the stairs. “I didn’t mean to pry. With you being new here, I worried that you might have gotten lost.”

“You’re fine, Dad.”

He smiled, his brown eyes shining with relief. “Didn’t meet any of those wolves, did you?”

Nope. One did try to eat me though.
“Wolves?” I looked at him with blank innocence. I didn’t want to lie to him; I simply didn’t want him to have another reason to worry.

“Yeah.” He frowned, his brows crinkling. “I haven’t seen them, but one of our teaching assistants said there are several out there. He’s out there enough to know. Poor guys are probably lost.”

“Teaching assistant?” It couldn’t be … .

“Mmhmm,” Dad said, starting back toward the living room. “Dace Matthews. Great guy.”

“Dace!”

I wanted to sink through the floor as soon as the name left my lips.

Dad stopped and turned around, surprise written all over his face. “You’ve met him?”

“Um.” I’d set myself up for that one, hadn’t I? Hell. “Yeah, he actually walked me home tonight.”

Did I sound a little defiant or was that my imagination?

“Oh.” Dad looked like he wanted to say something and then thought better of it. He shook his head as if to dislodge a wayward thought and smiled. Or tried to. It didn’t quite reflect in his eyes. “Are you hungry?”

“Starving,” I said, beyond relieved he’d changed the subject. I didn’t want to answer any questions about Dace. I couldn’t help but wonder what Dad decided not to say though.

“I was thinking of whipping up some dirty rice to go with the chicken and potatoes we picked up on the way home. Sound okay?”

“Sounds great. I’ll do the potatoes if you’ll do the rice,” I negotiated.

“Deal.” He grinned and headed off to the kitchen.

I trailed along behind him, wondering both why Dace had not mentioned knowing my dad, and how well my dad knew him. And that look. What had that been about?