I made a sound of agreement. Why did everything have to center around church these days? I finished drying the dishes and put them away. “I’m going to bed.”
Mom came over and hugged me. “I’m proud of you. You’ve made a good choice. Love you.”
“Love you too, Mom.”
As I went to my room I wondered what she would have said if I’d chosen to return to cheering, and what she would say about Sam.
The pancake dinner was a madhouse, and the crowd exhausted me. When Mom announced that she was going to stay and help the treasurer with the receipts and log book, I figured I was doomed for another few hours. But I was saved when Mom handed me the keys to the car and told me that she would get a ride home when she was finished.
Once home I went straight upstairs and did something rare. I pulled my hair into a high ponytail on top of my head. It was driving me crazy, and I was alone with no one to stare at my face. Then I changed into a pair of knit yoga pants and a tee. I just wanted to be comfortable and not care about what I looked like. I settled on the couch with a blanket and the remote. A few minutes into channel surfing the doorbell rang. I figured that Mom forgot her key and ran to answer the door.
Sam stood on the porch. “Hi.”
“Hi.” I stared at him, taking in his golden hair and the clean lines of his face.
“Is this a bad time?”
“No! Sorry, come in.” I opened the door wider, and he brushed by me sending electric jolts through my body.
“My mom is at church,” I stuttered.
“You’re alone?” he asked like he already knew.
I nodded sending my ponytail into a bounce. I froze, remembering my appearance. I reached up to yank down my hair.
“Leave it,” he said softly.
I went to pull it down anyway, Kimber’s voice floating through my brain you should start putting your products to use.
Sam appeared in front of me, his hand reaching up to pull my hand away, fingers entwining with mine. “I like seeing your face.”
“It’s ugly.”
“It’s beautiful.”
I shook my head and ducked my face. He used our entwined hands to lift my chin. “I like looking at you.”
“What’s wrong with you?”
A wary look crossed behind his eyes. “What do you mean?”
“You’re too good for me.”
He frowned. “That isn’t true.”
I went to the couch and sat down, tucking the blanket over my lap to hide my outfit. Sam followed, sitting next to me, so I turned, resting my cheek against the back of the sofa and bringing my knee up between us.
He reached out and tucked a stray hair behind my ear leaving his fingertips to linger near my face. Very slowly, his fingers moved up my jaw and my stomach clenched, knowing what he intended. I sat there debating whether or not to allow it. His touch was feather light, and his eyes held no disgust, so I watched him as his fingers moved upward just grazing the bottom of my biggest scar. Holding my eyes, gently he traced the jagged outline and explored the raised puckered parts. He never once seemed grossed out. He actually looked sad and regretful. I closed my eyes to his emotions because my own were more than enough to cope with. No one had ever touched me like this. I didn’t want them too. Until now. It was sweet and made me feel not so ugly.
His fingers didn’t linger on the scars but I felt the pad of his thumb brush against the underside of my bottom lip. My eyes opened. “Why are you here?” I whispered.
“I forgot something yesterday.”
“You did?”
He nodded, leaned forward and I froze, the bottom falling out of my stomach. He was going to kiss me.
His lips brushed over mine once, and he pulled back a fraction before returning to settle them over mine again. He kept his body exactly where it was, but I was completely enveloped by him. His hand moved to the side of my neck and stopped, but his lips moved over mine softly, again and again. Every part of me hummed and vibrated, and something inside urged me to get closer that this wasn’t enough. Yet, I was so entranced by him I couldn’t move. I don’t know how long we stayed like that, every part of us unmoving except for our lips, but the whole time I prayed that it would never end. Of course, it had to.
He pulled back enough to rest the side of his face against the couch, mirroring my position. The lightning storm of gold in his eyes was beautiful, but deep down a voice wondered if it was natural. I pushed the thought away because I wouldn’t let anything spoil this moment. “Heven,” he rasped, his fingers caressing me once more. “What happened to you?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Nothing?”
“I was attacked walking home one night from the library, and I woke up in the hospital like this.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.”
He pulled away. “I should go.”
I grabbed his arm. “Wait. Why did you really come here?” What had I done to make him want to leave?
“I wanted to see you.”
I glanced at the clock. “I have awhile yet before my mom gets home. Can you stay?”
That lonely look flashed through his eyes, but then his lips tilted up. “Yeah.”
He sat back and spread his arms along the back of the couch. I sat up and scooted closer, resting my head against his chest, wondering if the butterflies in my stomach would ever settle. I kind of hoped they wouldn’t.
Chapter Eight
Heven
I stared at the clock as I trudged into seventh period. This crappy Monday was almost over; it seemed like the longest one yet. Sam didn’t stay long enough yesterday. For once Mom finished her work at the church early, and he had to go. I spent the rest of the day doing homework and spending time with Mom. When I went to bed I was haunted with the same nightmare as always, except this time Sam’s creepy roommates were the ones chasing me down the street. When they caught up and tackled me they stared down with flashing gold eyes. I woke up at five drenched in sweat with a pounding heart. I knew that if I closed my eyes again I would once again be haunted by flashing gold eyes and taunting laughter. Instead I lay in bed staring at the ceiling and replayed Sam’s kiss over and over in my mind. The memory was enough to chase away the worst of my nightmare.
I looked at the clock again, wondering if I had enough time to sneak out in the hall and call Grandma to beg her to pick me up after school so I could spend some time with Jasper. But then the bell rang, and I saw Sam slip inside the door and move to his seat. It was the first I had seen of him all day. Yet another reason this day had been so endless. I stared at him, and his eyes flicked up to mine. He didn’t smile or wave, but his eyes flashed gold. Scenes from my nightmare flashed before me, and I hurried to turn away in my seat. My reaction confused me. Sometimes I caught glimpses of a Sam that frightened me, sensed some kind of self-contained violence that made me wonder if I should be afraid. I wondered if I really knew him. But then he was around, that automatic feeling of safety would spread over me, and I would feel silly for ever thinking that I was in danger with him.