Unlit Star (18 page)

“You're absolutely right,” he murmurs. He straightens, a grin taking over his mouth. “Tired?”

My mouth opens and closes. Part of me is still back in the last moments locked in that seductive kiss. “Are—are you?”

“Extremely.” The teasing glint to his eyes disappears as he watches me. His manner has shifted, become dark like the sky surrounding us.

I feel my heartbeat quicken, but I keep my tone light as I say, “You're just saying that. You really only want to get me into your bed so you can have your way with me.”

“Oh, I'm planning on it.” His voice is a purr.

I go still as I gaze at him. Okay, so I wasn't expecting that. Innuendoes and come-on lines make me blush and stammer out ridiculous comebacks because my brain doesn't know how to digest that kind of behavior. But with Rivers, I don't know, I want to be naughty. I want to flirt.

I want
him
.

I trail my fingers along his chest, feel the taut skin pebble beneath my touch, and say, "Don't blame me in the morning when you're irrevocably obsessed with me."

"I don't think I need to wait until morning for that to happen," he murmurs.

Damn. He did it again. I laugh, but it sounds shaky. "Stop."

He smiles. "Never."

We leave the pool and enter the house, our hands locked together. As we lie down to sleep, I cannot keep the joy from my being. It seeps out into the smile that won't leave my face. It bursts forth in the laughter that falls from my lips. It even tendrils through my arms as I wrap them around Rivers' waist, resting my cheek on his warm chest. This feeling, this joy, outshines anything that has ever hurt me. It heals all past wounds. This joy is a shield against the future. It is my strength to face another day not knowing what it will bring.

"You know how, when you get hurt, you feel it all the way to your stomach? It's not just felt in the place you actually hurt, but within your whole body?"

I kiss his bare shoulder. "I guess, yeah."

His arms tighten around me. "That's how I feel about you. I feel it everywhere, and it really isn't pain, but it isn't exactly pleasure either. It's an ache that sort of hurts, but also gives relief. Does that make sense?"

A smile forms to my lips as tears prick my eyes. "Yes." It is the epitome of what I feel now with his words lingering in my head and heart.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH my son?" No form of greeting, just that.

I coat two slices of bread in peanut butter, glancing at the cell phone on the counter next to me. I put it on speaker phone, but now I wonder if I should have. I look up, glad Rivers isn't in the room in case I am about to get yelled at. Being yelled at in private sucks—being yelled at with a witness listening is excruciating.

"I think he's around here somewhere. Do you want me to get him?"

Monica laughs. "Delilah! I meant, where did the brooding, unhappy young man go? Not that I want him back. I'm just wondering how you managed to do in less than two weeks what I, and doctors of any kind, haven't been able to do in months."

I open my mouth to ask if any of them offered to make out with him, but decide she might not find that as humorous as I do. "I got skills," is what I go with.

I finish with the jelly, place the buttered sides of bread in a frying pan, and place the twins on top. Making them makes me happy. The thought of watching Rivers try one makes me even happier.

"He's swimming."

"Yes."

"You're amazing, you really are."

"That's me." I twist a lock of hair around my finger and rest my backside against the counter, the scent of butter filling the room. "How is everything going over there?"

The line is silent, but somberness can somehow be felt through the phone. "Not good. It shouldn't be too much longer now." She sighs. "It's all so horrible—waiting for someone to die, knowing they're about to, and being unable to do anything about it but watch."

My mouth goes dry and a sick feeling punches me in the stomach. "Right."

"Sorry. We don't need to talk about maudlin things. Cheer me up. Let's talk about you and Rivers."

The way she said that implies there is something to talk about. "Oh, you know." Rivers appears in the doorway, one eyebrow lifted. I turn the speaker phone off and pick up the phone, placing it to my ear. I flip the sandwiches in the pan and they sizzle as butter meets heat. "Actually, you should know, Rivers ate all of your ice cream. He didn't want me to tell you, but I felt I should. I mean, you're my employer, not him, so my loyalties have to be to you." His eyes narrow and I grin. "I got more, but then he ate that too. I think he has a problem."

"Hmm. He's in the room, isn't he?"

"You could say that."

She chuckles. "I still have a hard time imagining him eating it at all."

"He loves it!" I hold a laugh in when he scowls at me, nudging me aside to eye the grilled peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. I flip the burner off and move the pan, bumping my hip into his side. He gently bites my bare shoulder in retaliation and I have to fight for air for a moment. I push him away and he gives me a look saying he'll get me back for that.

"I think he's just trying to impress you."

"Most likely." I stick my tongue out at him.

"Tell Rivers hi and have fun. I'll be in touch."

"Got it." The call ends. "Also, he likes to kiss me, like, all the time. He even shoved his tongue in my mouth. And the groping...it's
endless
."

The phone is grabbed away from me. Rivers puts it to his ear, his eyes on me. "Funny." He sets the phone down and brushes a finger across my lips. "Were you eating the peanut butter as you made the sandwiches?"

"No."

He shows me the peanut butter he removed from my lip.

"It fell...upward...somehow."

"And just happened to latch onto your lip? Who knew peanut butter was so gifted."

"Me." I point at myself and laugh when he rolls his eyes.

He moves around me and grabs two plates, sliding the sandwiches from the pan onto the plates. "Am I going to regret this?"

"No. You only regret the things you don't try," I tell him.

Grabbing a butter knife, he cuts the sandwiches into halves and offers me a plate. "That's one way to look at it. Although, that one time I went skinny-dipping and came out to a swarm of mosquitoes biting me in really bad places—totally regretted trying that. Let's eat." I want to ask who he went skinny-dipping with, and then I realize that, no, I don't.

I wait to eat my own sandwich until he takes the first bite of his, laughter wanting to break forth at the cautious look in his eyes. He slowly chews, his eyes going to mine. With a shrug, he takes another bite.

"It's good, right?"

"Not bad."

"I'll show you not bad."

"I'd rather you showed me bad."

Rivers = 1. Delilah = 0.

I COULD TELL FROM THE phone call I received from my mom the night before that it is time to stop at home. She sounded unusually sad and I know the past ten days with me away is weighing on her. The longest we've gone without seeing each other is probably two days, max. When she asked me to bring Rivers over for supper, I couldn't say no. Hopefully he doesn't either. If he does, I'll just go by myself. For some reason, though, I feel that they need to meet. I guess because they are the two people in my life I care about the most.

The breath whooshes from my lungs when I admit it to myself. I'm not saying I love him, but I do care about him. I mean, yeah, I've known the
idea
of Rivers for a long time, but I have only really known
him
for close to a month. That isn't long enough to form feelings like that for someone. Of course, that doesn't stop me from thinking I have been given something I need to cherish and hang on to for as long as I can. So maybe I do love him, on some level. Why waste time trying to figure it out? I just need to embrace it while I can.

That settled, I grab clothes from my tote bag to change into. As I am kicking off my pajama bottoms, I hear a noise behind me and spin around. Rivers stands frozen in the doorway, a coffee cup in each hand. His hair gleams like the feathered wings of a raven from a recent shower and he's wearing a white tee shirt and khaki shorts. I can smell him and the coffee from across the room, both of which are welcome. His expression is sort of comical, as is the way he is standing like a mannequin. Great advertisement for coffee, though. I'd buy that brand.

When he continues to remain silent and unmoving, I sigh and head toward him. It's not like I am naked. I have a pink tank top and underwear on, although, yeah, okay, the tank top is tight and I don't have a bra on—and the underwear are red and skimpy, but still. I'm
clothed
.

He tenses as I advance, and I fear he may take off before I can reach the coffee that I would actually love to slurp down this morning. I didn't sleep well last night and ended up in the sun room at some point, which made sleep ultimately impossible. I couldn't sleep with Rivers and I couldn't sleep without him. It was a long night of asking myself what the hell is going on. The answers remained unknown until this morning, when I just had that scary epiphany.

“Are you back to not speaking to me? Fine. I can get used to that again. Your comments
are
kind of annoying. You have this air of superiority every time you open your mouth that really gets on my nerves after a few hours.” I take the mug from his limp fingers and blow on the steaming black liquid.

A deep inhalation of air is sucked into his lungs, breaking whatever trance he was under. “You weren't there when I woke up this morning.”

I raise my eyebrows as I sip my coffee. “You are extremely observant.”

With a scowl blackening his already dark looks, he sets his mug down on a window ledge and swipes a hand through his hair. It is clear he is agitated and my comments are not helping. “
Why
weren't you there?”

“Did you miss me?” I tease, although I am curious as to whether he really did. In fact, my pulse stutters a little as I wait for him to respond.

Rivers' eyes flicker up and down the length of me and immediate heat shoots through me. I forgot about my partially dressed state. Without saying a word, he takes the mug from me and sets it down next to his. His arm shoots out, his hand palming my waist, and he yanks me to him. When our bodies touch, the heat turns to fire. Both hands hold me now, his fingers dipping low and dangerously close to my rear. He's teasing me, I realize. His fingers inch down, then retract, again and again, until my breaths are leaving me in little spurts and I want to scream at him to just grab my ass already. And let me tell you, I do
not
think things like this. Apparently, with Rivers, I do.

He presses his lower half to me but leans back so that his eyes are locked on mine as he says, “Miss you? Yes. Long for you?
Yes
. I realized something last night, as I laid there without you next to me. All it took was one night.” He pauses. “I don't think there is a question as to whether or not I want you, because that is painfully blatant right now, but did I miss you? It was so much more than that. And do I need you?
Yes.
I need you.
My heart needs you, Delilah. I don't want to wake up without you again, not until I have to. And even then—even then I will just barely tolerate it.”

Oh...my...

Chills start at my scalp and make their way down to my toes at the sound of my name on his lips. I do believe it is the first time he's spoken my full first name in front of me since I started working here. My heartbeat picks up at the way he fits against me, and the conviction I see in his expression makes my stomach swoop over and over again. His words—his words just tossed away whatever reservations I had about trying to keep my distance. Keep my distance from the fire that keeps me warm in the face of the cold all around me? Impossible.

My heart needs you, Delilah.

"Why didn't you..." I falter as I struggle to breathe. "Why didn't you come get me then?"

"Obviously you wanted to be alone, but trust me, I contemplated it. In depth. Don't try it again, though. There
will
be repercussions." He scowls at me, but there is lightness to his eyes—lightness
I
put there.

I grab the front of his shirt and yank him toward me. I kiss him with all the passion inside me. He pushes against me, his fingers tangling in my hair, and we get lost in each other. His mouth sears mine, claims it as his, and tells me I will never get enough of this. The touching and kissing is going to reach a point where it is no longer enough. I think we are both dangerously close to that edge. Once we jump, there is no return to the pre-intimacy stage. I don't think I'll miss it.

I smile as he shudders against me, feeling empowered in the desire of Rivers. I feel beautiful, like I was never anything but. I feel like I am perfect as I am, and always have been. I feel like I never thought I would feel,
especially
with him.