by Kat Colmer
Misinterpreting my silence, he went on to explain. “It represents trust and, umm…” He reached a hand behind his neck and rubbed again. “And bonding,” he finished, eyes not quite meeting mine.
I was speechless. All I could do was gape. Not my finest moment, but he’d floored me.
“Cora, say something.”
“Sorry, I’m just… I didn’t think you…” I couldn’t string the words together. Was he actually saying he—
“You don’t like it.” The light in his eyes died a little.
“No! I do. I like it. It’s just—” I took a shaky breath. It was time to brave some straightforward questions. I looked him directly in the eyes. “Jonas, what exactly does all this mean?”
It was his turn to take a shaky breath. “That day in the kitchen, after we got back from the mansion…”
I swallowed. My heart jackhammered away against my rib cage.
“I lied,” he whispered.
Don’t. Don’t do this if you don’t mean it, Jonas.
My mouth had gone completely dry, but I forced myself to speak. “About what?”
“About…being exclusive.”
My heart tripped over itself. “So what are you saying?”
“I’m saying… What I mean is…” He broke off and wiped his palms along his jeans a few times. “Why the hell is this so hard?”
But after another breath, he leaned forward, took the bracelet box out of my lap, and clasped both my hands in his, eyes locking on mine.
“It’s like this, Cora. Dad took his life because he couldn’t stand the thought of living it without Mom. Other than a mountain of grief and anger, there was a clear lesson in that for a twelve-year-old kid: don’t ever allow yourself to feel that kind of emotion, because it’ll swallow you whole, drive you to lose control, make you abandon everyone else you supposedly care about. When I was younger, it didn’t affect me much. But as I got older and started dating, my resolve to stay away from anything that smelled remotely of a serious connection grew with every new girlfriend. It was my way of making sure I never abandoned Beth and Aunt Helena the way my father had abandoned us.” While he talked, his thumb feathered circles over the pulse point on one of my wrists, not helping the speed of my galloping heartbeat any.
“But I was careless. I let someone slip under my radar, not realizing they were a threat until it was too late.” His thumb stilled against my skin. “You.”
“Me?”
“Yeah, you. You were there from the start, chipping away at my stupid defense system right under my nose, without me even knowing it. The TKD classes, the study sessions, the debates over which viral apocalypse movie story lines were actually plausible, all those nights arguing about which actor made the best Bond—”
“Daniel Craig. Hands down.”
He smiled. The way it reached all the way to his eyes made my stomach clench.
“Other than Beth, you were the only girl I ever wanted to spend time with. Being with you is like breathing: natural, uncomplicated, something I do without having to think. Only when Love’s Mortal Coil and Elymas threatened to take you away from me, it became clear that, like breathing, you’re also vital to my well-being.”
Wow. Beth had him wrong. When he wanted to be, the guy was darn good with his words. But I needed more. “So that day in the kitchen, why didn’t you tell me? Why did you make me think it was more obligation than anything else?”
He squeezed my hands. “I was going to.”
“But you chickened out?”
He shook his head. “Leo made me believe the Groth Maar would come after Beth if you accepted me. I couldn’t take the chance.”
No, he couldn’t. As much as it stung, I understood he had no other choice. I’d have done the same to keep Beth safe.
He tugged on my hands, bringing me a little closer. “Look, Cora. I know I’m not exactly the best long-term boyfriend material, but that’s what I want to change. I’ll probably stuff up along the way—hell, I’m sure I will—but I want to be the guy you want to spend your time with, the one you come to first when you have a problem, the one you think of when you want to try something new.”
I was about to tell him that he was that guy already, that he’d been that guy for years, but he forged on.
“I’m not expecting you to trust me just because of my words. But if you give me a chance, I’ll prove to you that I can be that guy, that you can trust me, with everything.” He started up the thumb-circling again, sending fresh jolts of awareness up my arm. “Do you think you can? Give me a chance? Give us a chance?” Eyes wide open and vulnerable, he looked at me, waiting for my response.
Say something, stupid! Tell him yes!
But as I opened my mouth it dawned; despite everything Jonas had said, he’d still managed to avoid saying the one thing I really needed to hear.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Jonas
Cora’s silence was deafening in the quiet candlelit cocoon of the gazebo. Her hesitation, and the growing line between her eyes, quickly eroded my already shaky confidence. She’s going to turn me down. Then I’ll have to add trying not to tear up in front of her to my list of problems. Ah hell, could be crying might help. I didn’t know what else to do. I’d laid myself bare, told her exactly how I felt.
Cora shifted awkwardly on the pillows and pulled her hands from mine. Not good. So not good. I fought the prickle of something behind my eyes. Shit. I ran a hand through my hair and pulled, needing to do something to stop myself from reaching for her.
She picked up the box beside her, pulling the bracelet out. Eyes cast down on the gold mesh in her hands, she finally spoke. “So…we’re not talking temporary?”
Convinced I’d hear the word “no” somewhere in her next sentence, it took me a whole three seconds to register it wasn’t there. And when I did, my heart wrapped around my tonsils. “Definitely not temporary,” I rushed to answer.
When she looked up, her eyes searched mine. The shadow of wariness in the hazel was a kick to my gut. “How can you be so certain you won’t run?”
I swept my gaze over her face, taking her in, this amazing, smart, kick-ass girl who wasn’t scared to go head-to-head with demons, who made me a better me. And I knew what I had to do to make her mine.
I took a breath and anchored my gaze in hazel while my heart—yeah, I’m talking about my fricking heart again—prepared to take a dive from the ten-meter board. Then I finally said the words.
“Because I love you.”
The wariness in her eyes remained.
But only for a heartbeat.
Then she leaned forward and put her lips to mine.
Soft. So damn soft. Her kiss soothed and burned all at the same time. This had to be a yes. Any other girl, and I would have been sure I had this in the bag, but with Cora I wasn’t taking any chances. She wasn’t any other girl.
It took all my willpower to pull away from her. And then I only managed to break contact long enough to cradle her face in my hands and lean my forehead against hers. “So…” I trailed my thumbs over the smooth skin of her cheeks. “Does this mean you’ll give us a try?”
Cora looked straight into my eyes from underneath her lashes. “We’re exclusive, right?”
I couldn’t help it; I smiled. “Completely exclusive.”
She nodded. “I’ll give us a try. But you’re on probation. If you so much as look at another girl, I’ll kick your ass.” The possessive glint in her eyes warned me she meant it.
This time I grinned. “Yeah, ’cause that worked out so well for you last time.”
She shoved me back onto the island of cushions. When she followed me down, she accidentally pressed on my bandage-covered ribs. I couldn’t help it—I yelped.
Immediately, she sprang back, one hand flying to her mouth. “Crap! I’m sorry. Jonas, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s all right. Come here.” I grabbed her wrist, wanting to tug her down next to me. I could put up with a little pain if it meant having her close. “Just no TKD moves tonight, all right?” I smiled, trying to put her at ease.
That worry line between her eyes returned, except this time I was sure it had more to do with worry for me rather than because of me. It made the pain worth it. She lowered herself onto her side, being way too careful not to bump me again.
“I’m all right, Cora. Relax.”
“But it’s obviously still painful.” Keeping her distance, she gingerly touched her fingertips to the section of my T-shirt above the wound. Suddenly, the few centimeters of space between us were a chasm. I had to make it clear I wasn’t going to break if she touched me. And, damn, I needed her to touch me.
I reached over and tucked a stray strand of her hair behind her ear, inching closer to her at the same time. “It’s not that bad. You just caught me by surprise.” I stroked my fingers along her jaw and feathered my thumb across her lower lip. “But if you really want to help, you can always kiss it better,” I said, trying hard not to simply drag her up against me.
The light from the tea candles was just strong enough for me to make out the blush that stole its way across her cheekbones. But she leaned in and brought her lips to a hair’s breadth of mine, mischief dancing in her eyes.
“I don’t know. It might all be too much for you. And I don’t want you to bust a stitch or something.” Each of her words were a chocolate-infused temptation. I wanted to taste her so bad I was ready to beg.
But after a devilish grin, she took pity on me and lowered her mouth to mine. Cora. And chocolate. And Cora. So. Damn. Good.
There were no words for the next few minutes, only the buzz of cicadas mixed with our muffled sounds as we pressed closer under the blanket of flickering candlelight. The kind of sounds you make when your brain shuts down because your blood has deserted to other places in your body. Noises you utter when what you want to say can only be communicated through heat-seeking fingertips and the brush of warm lips.
Cora was the first to pull up for air. I’d have to work on the girl’s stamina.
One warm hand on my chest, she sat up for a moment. “Hold on.” Shifting, she lifted her hip and pulled something—the bracelet—out from underneath her. “This is beautiful, Jonas.” She flattened the gold molecule pattern against the white of my T-shirt and smiled. “Was this your idea or Beth’s?”
Annoyed she thought I wouldn’t be able to come up with the idea myself, I lightly pinched her leg. “Hey, give me some credit. Beth wouldn’t know a molecule if it landed in her fricking frappe.”
“True.” She found my eyes with hers, her expression turning serious. “They call it the love hormone.”
“I know. That’s why I chose it. It says what I feel. I love you.” The words came easier this time, making me lighter every time I said them to her, chipping away at a weight I didn’t know I’d been carrying.
She was smiling, but that line between her eyes was snaking its way along her forehead again. Something was wrong.
“Cora? Talk to me.” Whatever it was, I would fix it. I tugged her closer.
She came willingly, which was a good sign. She picked up the bracelet and snuggled up against me, her head resting on my chest. “I want to tell you, to say it back, but…”
“Hey.” I pressed my lips to her hair and hugged her to me. “It’s all right.” As much as I wanted to hear her say the words, I understood. They were there. I could feel them in her kiss, see them in the hazel when she looked at me. But she needed time. To trust. I promised I’d give her that.
“How long is my probation?”
“What?” She pulled back a little to look at me.
“My probation, time of trial. How long?”
“Um…I don’t know. What’s the longest you’ve ever been with one girl?”
Hmm. This could get sticky. “A month.”
One of her eyebrows flew north. “You really want to start this whole thing with half-truths?”
Shit. I should have known I couldn’t get anything past her. “Fine, a week.”
“A week? Seriously? You couldn’t find a girl interesting enough to hang around longer than a week?”
I shrugged. “You wanted the truth. That’s the truth.” And yeah, I couldn’t find a girl to hold my interest longer than that. Could be because, without knowing it, I’d compared each of them to Cora and they’d fallen short. But I wasn’t about to tell her that. In this case the truth sounded way too much like a corny line.
She huffed, sending her warm breath across my face and making me forget why we were having this conversation. “A month, then,” she said.
I nuzzled the soft skin where her shoulder met her neck. “A month what?” Damn she smelled good.
“Your probation. A month.”
I didn’t know if I could wait that long, but if that was what it would take… “Then that’s how long you have,” I whispered against her neck as I kissed my way up to the sensitive spot behind her ear.
It was her turn to be distracted. “For what?”
I found her mouth with mine before I told her. “To tell me you love me,” I whispered against her lips.
She stilled, eyes locked on mine for an unbearably long few seconds before she pulled back a little and wound the bracelet around her wrist. “Help me put this on.”
I did, grinning like an idiot because she was going to wear my gift for everyone to see.
When the clasp was tightly fastened, she pushed me back onto the cushions and—ah, have mercy—straddled my hips. She leaned over me slowly, her hair falling forward, a waterfall of mango-scented silk. I buried my hands in the softness as my heart slammed against my chest so hard I really was in danger of busting a stitch—or busting something else.
She stopped just short of my mouth, her face so close her warm breath stirred my eyelashes. “Jonas?”
“Yeah?” She was killing me here.
“I won’t need that long.” She brushed her lips against mine so gently my hair follicles vibrated.
“For what?” I edged my hands deeper into her hair, urging her closer.
“To tell you…” She paused and looked me in the eyes. “I love you.” Then her lips came down on mine and my heart—yeah, you heard me, my fricking heart—burst right out of my chest.
Enough said.
For the next however long, time was a nonentity. I lost track of it. Could be we lay on that cushion island for minutes, maybe hours. Kissing, touching, talking. Then kissing some more.
I discovered the inside of her wrist tasted as good as that spot behind her ear. That she shivered when I put my lips to the crook of her elbow. She confessed she’d never been so terrified as that moment Elymas drove his blade into my body. I admitted I’d been stupid to go up against the demon without her. We were so wrapped in each other we never heard the gazebo stairs creak.
“Ugh. I don’t think I’m ever going to get used to the sight of this.” Beth’s voice was a bucket of ice water—complete mood-killer.
“You’ve got to be kidding me. Didn’t we talk about this?” I glared at my sister as Cora pulled away from me. “You can interrogate her tomorrow morning. Tonight she’s mine.”
Beth’s response was to roll her eyes. “You think I wanted to witness this love fest? I’m here because we have a problem.” She thrust her hand out at me, holding some sort of paper in her hand.
Cora recognized the sand-colored parchment first. “What are you doing with Jonas’s Guardian letter?”
Beth shook her head. “It’s not his.”
Not mine? The dead weight in my gut told me it wasn’t Dad’s, either. And it was Cora’s eighteenth birthday…
I was on my feet and grabbing the letter from Beth before the thought had finishe
d forming.
Cora had come to the same conclusion. “It doesn’t make sense. There’s no way one of my parents is a Guardian. They’re divorced. And they would have said something.”
She was right. It made no sense. But the letter was genuine, the text the same:
One moon your lips a choice have time to make
To find a heart that yours will wholly take
If with the sun’s rise he still clings to thee
Love’s joy your just reward shall ever be…
Except…hold on. “One moon?”
“That’s not right.” Frowning, Cora took the letter from me. “One moon. Is that like one month?”
“I don’t know. And isn’t it all moot anyway?” I looked at her, then down at her oxytocin bracelet, pointing out she’d already found “a heart that hers will wholly take”— namely mine.
“Jonas is right. I can’t be a Guardian,” Cora said.
“You’re not.” Beth’s voice sounded very sure. Then she showed us the envelope:
Beth Leander
“I am.”
Did you love this Entangled Teen book? Check out more of our titles here!
Don’t miss another book by Kat Colmer. Sign up for the Entangled Teen newsletter here!
Acknowledgments
They say it takes a village to raise a child. And so it is with a book baby. There are many people without whom this story would never have seen the light of day.
Thanks must go to my first readers, Valerie and Priya. Val, your words, “I’m a lot in awe and a little afraid of you,” gave me the courage to send this crazy tale out into the world. Priya, your encouragement always came at just the right time.
Massive thanks to my critique partners, Heidi Catherine and Tamar Sloan, for reading every draft, brainstorming ways out of plot holes, and replying to every neurotic text message. I’m blessed with the best writing buddies in the world, and have made two new friends for life.
To the wonderful people at Entangled, thank you so much for welcoming me into the fold and weaving your editorial, formatting, marketing, publicity, and cover design magic. A special thanks must go to Stephen Morgan, who saw potential in this story, and whose editorial vision has helped shape it into the book it is today. It’s been an absolute pleasure working with you, and I hope to have the opportunity to do so again.