I’d take her shoulders in my hands, stroking my fingers over the sharpness of her collarbone that’s in such dichotomy to the softness of her skin. Then I’d lean forward and trail my lips along the edge of her jaw, being careful not to brush against the painful-looking scar beneath her ear. The last thing I want is to cause her pain, especially not when I’m dying to drown her in pleasure.
She’ll arch into my touch, her body quivering with the same need that will be running through mine. And when our lips meet, she’ll—
“Whatever you’re thinking about looks good on you,” she says.
Her words—and the slightly teasing voice she uses to deliver them—bring me back to reality with a thud. I don’t know how to respond, so I just stare at her, eyes wide and heart thumping hard in my chest.
“Nothing to say?” she asks softly.
I shake my head, then immediately feel bad for lying. Because the truth is, it’s not that I have nothing to say. It’s that I have so much to say that I don’t know where to start.
Nobody’s ever wanted to listen before.
“What were you thinking about?” she asks as she reaches out to run her fingers through my hair.
“You.” I blurt it out, because it’s true. And because I don’t want to hide it. It’s not the same as reaching out and kissing her, but as her yellow eyes gleam, I can’t help but think it’s a start.
“Oh yeah?” Her fingers dig deeper until they’re skating against my skull and my whole body goes tight. And then she starts to rub, and the tenseness just oozes from my body.
“That feels so good,” I murmur. “I don’t think anyone has ever touched my hair before you.” I frown, trying to remember back. “I suppose they probably did when I was little, but I can’t remember.”
She considers me, head cocked to one side. “What about Merrick?” she asks. “Isn’t he your lady’s maid?”
I giggle. “I think you’re mistaking me for Kali. She had a companion-in-waiting to help her dress.” I frown. “But then, her dress was way more complicated than my robe is.” I pluck at the ugly thing and sigh.
“So, you and Merrick,” she asks after a second. “Lovers?”
I gasp and turn to stare at her. “Oh, no! Merrick would never… Even if he wanted to—which I’m sure he doesn’t—he takes his duties way too seriously. I think he’d believe a personal relationship would compromise his ability to do his job.”
“Which is?”
“To keep me safe.”
She smiles. “Except here you are. All alone.”
“No, I’m not. I’m with you. Merrick actually told me to stay on the ship and keep out of trouble, but I needed some fresh air. I was restless, and I wanted to see this place and the water.”
She nods, those arresting eyes of hers staring straight at me in a way that makes my skin prick. But then she very deliberately looks away, and everything inside me deflates.
At least until she says, “You didn’t say anything about yourself.”
“What do you mean?”
“You said Merrick would never compromise his duty by being with you. But you never said anything about how you feel about that. Or him.”
“Oh! Not like that! Merrick is my—” Protector. Guide. Friend? I finally settle on, “Merrick takes care of me, and that’s all either of us wants.”
She doesn’t say anything to that, and I watch her out of the corner of my eye for a couple of minutes, until I finally give up and look back toward the lake.
We’re quiet for a while then, staring out over the still water. The sun is sinking in the sky, the day bleeding into night, casting a faint pink glow over the water; dusk is not far away.
The silence is peaceful. For once, Beckett’s almost manic energy is subdued. And her face is clear of the pain that so often fills her eyes. Like this, I find her…disturbing. Striking. Compelling.
I’ve never met anyone quite like her.
Just like that, I’m filled with a sudden restlessness, like I need to do something. I need to move, to run… I glance at the water again. “Do you want to swim?”
She turns to look at me, and for a moment her eyes are blank, like she’s a thousand kilometers away. Then she blinks. “I don’t know how.”
“Neither do I.”
“I thought you were born on Askkandia?” Beckett asks.
She was there when Max, Gage, and I idly chatted in the bridge. I thought she wasn’t listening, but she was paying attention. To me. My heart leaps. “Oh, I was, but I was brought to Serati when I was still a baby,” I clarify. “No real memories of this place. But hey”—I grin—“we could learn to swim together.”
“Or drown,” she says and doesn’t sound too bothered by the idea.
“Maybe we could just paddle for a little. Or dip our feet in.”
She jumps off the wall and holds out her hand to me. And the pricking along my skin comes back with a vengeance.
What am I doing?
Part of me knows that this is wrong. And dangerous. But there’s something damaged about Beckett, and I sense that I can help her.
I smile and slide my hand into hers, and a shiver runs through me.
And that’s when I know I’m lying to myself. Again. It’s becoming an unfortunate habit. Because while I would definitely like to help Beckett, that’s not why I asked her to swim with me. And it’s definitely not why I took her hand.
I remember the feel of her lips on mine, and longing fills me, seeping into all those little nooks and crannies inside me that I didn’t even know were empty. I want her to kiss me again so that I can warm myself in her heat as I stroke the lines of pain from her forehead and make her forget all the bad things. Even if it’s just for a little while.
We walk quietly toward the water’s edge, until she winces slightly.
“How is your head?” I ask.
“It’s okay.”
“Yeah?” I prompt because I don’t believe her. I can feel the tenseness in her body, the pain that seems to radiate from her.
She shrugs. “It’s actually pretty messed up in there. Sometimes I can’t seem to hold on to a thought no matter how hard I try. Other times I know what I want to say, but I can’t make the words come out right. Everything is out of focus. The past and the present. Sometimes it’s better than others. Now is good.” She gives me a searching look. “You make everything clearer.”
“I’m glad.” I squeeze her hand. “It will get better with time.”
“Or it won’t.” She shrugs. “Either way, I’ll cope.”
“You shouldn’t have to cope,” I say fiercely, then sigh, because getting angry never helps. “Maybe we should take you to a doctor while we’re here.”
“Maybe,” she agrees. But I sense she’s just trying to placate me.
I look around and realize we’re the only two people in sight. The sun has nearly disappeared now, just a shimmer of color on the horizon.
“This is so magical,” I say.
“I don’t think anyone has ever called Askkandia magical before,” she answers.