He nodded thoughtfully, and I stood to cross the short distance between us. Aside from the visible jump of his throat, he appeared relaxed with his arms folded across his chest.
“Everything you do is for me.” His arms dropped to his sides as I stepped into his comfort zone, and one hand grazed my hip. “You’ve taught me everything I know.” I kept my head down as my hand roamed across his ribcage. “You’ve made me a better, stronger person.”
“You were strong long before I came along, Kris.”
“Maybe,” I shrugged, “but you’re the one who taught me how to throw a left hook.”
Nathan’s chest vibrated with silent laughter. He sucked in a sharp breath when my hands moved to the hem of his shirt, and my fingers grazed his skin. I bunched the fabric in my hands.
“You taught me how to shoot a gun . . .”
I lifted the shirt over his head, and our eyes met.
“You were terrible at it,” he murmured.
“You made me stab bags of corn,” I continued wistfully while my hands explored him—every magnificent, exposed inch of him.
His hand slipped under my shirt, and his fingers traced over my lower back. “I was afraid you’d stab me instead.”
“I considered it.” Then, as if to show him just how far my opinion of him had come since those days, I pressed my lips to the faint scar above his heart. The scar created the night we had first kissed.
A staggered breath hissed between his teeth. “Kris . . .” My name was a warning. One I didn’t need. Or want.
“Shh.” I pressed my thumb to his lips to silence him before continuing, “And you never pressured me before I was ready. Not once.”
Both of his hands were around my waist now, barely touching me, as if he was afraid to. He laughed softly, nervously. “Requesting a private room for us doesn’t count as pressure?”
I shook my head. “No, because I’m ready now.”
That must have been all he had needed to hear. All at once, his grip on me tightened, his mouth crushed mine, and my legs encircled his waist. My pulse soared, and butterflies took flight, as he flung us onto the bed behind me. We landed on possibly the most uncomfortable mattress ever made with a painful thud, and Nathan laughed against my lips.
“That didn’t quite go the way I envisioned it in my head,” he admitted.
“What is this thing made of? Cinder blocks?” I groaned.
Nathan’s head lifted to pierce me with a look. A question burned in his eyes, along with understanding. I knew he had hoped for something more idyllic for our first time together, if only to satisfy my girly fantasies. But right now, I didn’t care about any of that other stuff. It was only glitz and glitter.
My answer was to bury my fingers into his hair as I drew his mouth to mine. His hearty response told me that he wasn’t going to question me again. He kissed me with the languid patience of a man who wanted to savor everything. He pulled and nipped at my lip, eliciting a sigh from me.
While my response turned his kiss into a demanding fury, his hands roamed leisurely. The balance of his control unraveled me, set me on fire. I thought I might combust by the time he slipped my shirt over my head.
The kiss that followed was gentle and promising. Though great as always, I had long moved past promising . . . to wanting. My hands slid greedily down his bare back to the flexible waistband of his pants. They froze there when Nathan’s mouth ripped away from mine with a groan.
“Wait a minute,” he sighed. “I need to tell you something . . .”
I grumbled at the abrupt interruption, then pulled my lip between my teeth. “Is it just me, or has every bad conversation in history started with those words?”
“This isn’t bad. I promise.” His eyes shifted away, and his head shook once. I couldn’t decipher the meaning behind his body language, but I did notice that it contradicted his words in every way.
“Then what is it?” I attempted to keep my voice light, but it came out sounding forced.
He seemed to pick up on the fact that he was worrying me, and cupped my face tenderly in his hand. “I want you to know that this is it for me. You are it for me.” He paused to let those words sink in, and for a relieved smile to form on my lips, before he added, “You’re my destiny.”
Now it was my turn to shake my head. “I’m your what?”
Most girls would smile to hear such promising words from the man she loved—human girls, living a normal human life. But I had learned that, in my world, those words actually meant something.
He leaned back to give me some room as I pushed myself up onto my elbows, as if sitting up would help me understand what he was talking about. Because I honestly didn’t know.
“Don’t get mad, and don’t take it the wrong way,” he said in a rush. “Let me explain.”
“You’re going to have to . . .”
“Remember the prophet who I had watch out for you,” he prompted, encouraging a nod from me. That I had known about. “She also had a habit of checking into my future, despite me not wanting her to. After I saved you from the car accident, she told me that my future had changed.”
He paused, seemingly unsure about how to proceed. Or worried about my reaction?
“I want you to know that her telling me that had no impact on what has happened between us,” he stated firmly. “I didn’t like the idea of my future being predetermined like that, and I . . .” There was a silent apology in his eyes when they met mine now. “I fought it. Well, I tried to fight it.”
Despite his surprising revelation, I felt a smile forming on my lips. “That I believe.” The first few weeks of our time together hadn’t exactly been the start of a beautiful romance.
“I fell in love with you anyway,” he added without missing a beat. “And not because I felt like I was supposed to.”
I nodded. “That’s why you were so upset when Micah insisted that he was my soul mate,” I concluded. “Because I was supposed to be yours.”
“No. You are mine. I don’t need a prophet to tell me that.”
Since Micah’s big revelation months ago, I’d had a varied opinion of soul mates, and destiny, and fate. Since the day I first discovered the life I was destined to live, I had tried to change it. I hoped I was close to succeeding. But this?
This was one thing I knew to be true, and the one thing I was okay with. Because whether a prophet predicted it or not, and whether it was meant to be or not, I knew Nathan was the one for me.
I pulled him into a kiss that I hoped let him know that. He responded slowly, hesitantly, like he had expected me to be upset with his revelation. Then he deepened the kiss with a hearty sigh, and my shoulders dropped to the mattress beneath his weight.
“There’s more,” he murmured against my lips.
He pulled away, and I barely refrained a groan of protest. He rolled onto his back to dig a hand into the pocket of his pants. I watched silently as his hand reappeared with a shiny object between his fingers.
“Gran has insisted that she’s known all along, of course. Something about grandmotherly instinct, or something,” he added with a soft chuckle. His eyes remained fixed on whatever he held in his hand, and if I didn’t know him so well, I would have sworn that he was scared of it.
He turned to me with his hand outstretched, and I finally saw what he was holding. A delicate silver ring. My eyes darted between him and the ring, my jaw slack.
“She gave this to me a long time ago,” Nathan continued. “To give to you when I was ready. It’s been in the family for generations. Apparently, I’m her only hope of passing it on.”
I sucked in a shaky breath. “How long have you had this?”
“Long enough.” He made a noise that fell somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. My eyes moved from the ring to settle on Nathan as he gave me a half smile. “I was ready to make a promise to you a long time ago, but I wanted to make sure you were ready for it.”
“Is it like . . . an engagement ring?”
He shrugged. “It seems like so much more than that, but . . . yeah.”
I bit my lip, but it didn’t stop me from grinning like a moron as I stuck my hand out. “Then what are you waiting for?”
His throat jumped as he shifted to kneel beside me. “When this is all over . . . we’ll make it real.”
“I can’t wait.”
He wasted no more time in slipping the ring onto my finger. His hand entwined with mine as our lips collided. I fell back onto the bed, taking him with me. Now that he had addressed everything that he needed to, he held nothing back.
His hands traced my skin delicately as he slowly undressed me. His touch was intoxicating. The more I got, the more I wanted. His controlled, deliberate actions wreaked havoc on my composure.
He must have noticed, because his head swung from side to side as he briefly took in the room. “Nothing floating?”
“Not this time.” I shifted to give him more room as he nuzzled my neck, then sighed as he moved lower. “Nothing else you need to tell me, right?”
“Nuh-uh . . .” His head snapped up suddenly, as if he had realized something. “Except that . . . I love you.”
I barely had time to repeat the same words before his mouth was on mine, stifling my response. The remaining fabric barriers between us disappeared at a rate that straddled the thin line between careful diligence and unadulterated urgency. His hand held mine, the ring and all that it promised, pressed between us, as we gave ourselves to each other in the only other way we had yet to do.
I had heard girls complain that their first times weren’t the greatest of experiences. I had heard it all. It was awkward. It was unimpressive. It wasn’t what they had expected.
I couldn’t have disagreed with them more. If I could have gone back to school, I would tell them that I discovered the secret. It was all about finding the right guy. Because he made it everything I had hoped for. And then some.
I would have been lying if I said that there weren’t some surprises. Good surprises.
Good surprises that I wanted to relive over, and over, and over again.
At some point, the lamp floated to the ceiling. At the time, I didn’t care. I barely noticed when it crashed to the floor and shattered, right along with me.
~ ~ ~
The curtain of hair that covered my face didn’t block the morning sun any better than the hole-ridden blinds that covered the window. I stayed where I was, silent and still, as the previous night’s events replayed in my head.
It all seemed surreal. Impossible. Nothing in real life could have been that amazing. Right?
My eyes shifted to the floor, and to the broken lamp that lay there. So I hadn’t dreamt that part. That had really happened. All of it had really happened.
Holy crap. I buried my face into my pillow to stifle a scream of joy. Once I got that out of my system, nervousness crept in with reality. I had never had a ‘morning after’ before. I had heard that they were awkward.
Then again, that came from the same girls that claimed sex sucked the first time. They had definitely been wrong about that one.
Taking a calming breath to settle my nerves, I rolled lazily onto my side to face him, but he wasn’t there. My eyes landed on the table across the room, where a plate of chocolate donuts and a steaming cup of coffee sat, waiting for me.
He certainly knew how to make me happy. In every way, I mentally added with a devious smile as I sat up.
I padded across the room to scoop Nathan’s shirt off the floor, and slipped it on as I made my way to the donuts. I took a generous bite, then followed the sound of splashing water to the bathroom.
A shirtless Nathan stood at the sink, his back to me, as he ran a razor over his jaw. I stopped in the doorway to admire him while I nibbled on the donut. My eyes roamed appreciatively over his broad shoulders and back. By the time I found his eyes in the reflection, he was smiling at me.
“Good morning,” he greeted.
“Morning.” I bounced into the room, and plopped onto the counter next to the sink as he made another swipe with the razor. “You didn’t wake me for our usual morning of torture.”
His eyes darted to mine as he wiped the remnants of shaving cream from his face. “I thought you could use the extra sleep.”
He winked, and I nearly slid off the counter into a puddle on the floor. The implied ‘after last night’ brought an unexpected flush to my cheeks. My mouth dried, and I gulped the last of my donut down.
“I thought we were meeting the others for breakfast,” I finally managed to get out.
“It’s still early.” He shifted to stand in front of me. His hands gripped my waist to tug me forward while he wedged himself between my knees. “You’re wearing my shirt.”
“I’m wearing only your shirt.”
Nathan’s eyes darted to mine, and his chest rose and fell with a deep, controlled breath. “We’re never going to make it to breakfast.”
I mumbled something incoherently. Maybe something along the lines of, ‘I don’t care,’ but I couldn’t be sure. He drew my lips to his, and all thought processes stopped.
My mouth slid from his long enough for me to mutter, “I’m not hungry anyway.”
“We have donuts,” he grunted.
My head rolled back as he nuzzled the sensitive spot beneath my ear. “Mmm. Good thinking.”
Honestly, at that moment, I didn’t care if we ever left this room. At some point, hunger and mission requirements would draw us out. But for now? I would happily postpone all of it for another hour—or two?—alone with Nathan.
~ ~ ~
The crew had decided to meet at nine. Nathan and I were twenty minutes late by the time we flew into the café, hand in hand.
“Well . . . well . . .” Alec consulted the imaginary watch on his wrist. “Look who finally decided to join us.”
I attempted to shoot him a scathing look, but couldn’t wipe the smile from my face long enough to make it believable.
“You seem happier than you were the last time I saw you,” Alec said to me, then turned to Nathan. “And you’re not scowling at me like you usually do . . .” He waited expectantly as Nathan took a seat at the table. When Nathan glanced up at him, he added, “Ah, there it is.”
Nathan’s head lowered to study the menu in front of him with forced concentration, effectively ignoring the eyes of everyone else at the table. I attempted to do the same, though I could feel the curiosity oozing off of them. His hand dropped beneath the table to squeeze my knee, effectively extinguishing the fire burning my cheeks from being the center of unwanted attention.
Honestly, who cared if they knew what we did last night?
Wasn’t like it had been a random hook-up, like some of the others in our group. The ring on my finger proved that. As my thoughts drifted to the ring, and what it represented, the others saw it.
Jared snatched my hand, and shot a wide-eyed look at Nathan. “What’s this?” he demanded.
Nathan didn’t look up from the menu as he replied, “What’s it look like?”
“Holy shit,” Jared murmured as he gave me my hand back.
I glanced up to catch Alec’s wide open mouth. He closed it slowly as his eyes lifted from my hand to my face. I held my breath as I waited for his reaction. In the past, I would have expected pain masquerading as contempt.
He showed no signs of either as his gaze shifted toward Nathan. “Can I please be in charge of planning the bachelor party?”
Nathan’s stern response was immediate, and matched mine. “No,” we replied in unison.
“Isn’t that supposed to be the best man’s job?” Jared’s voice carried a teasing ring as he studied the steaming cup of coffee lifted to his lips. Behind it was a sly grin directed at Nathan, who had yet to lift his head out of the menu.
“Who says I can’t be the best man?” Alec lifted a hand to his chest in mock heartbreak.
“Best man for what?” Lillian questioned as she settled into the empty chair beside Alec. U
p until then, I hadn’t realized her absence. She must have been in the bathroom.
My eyes darted to her as she slowly caught up. Her gaze settled on my hand, and a look of understanding crossed her face.
“Oh.”
Nathan’s head finally lifted at her softly spoken word. A silent conversation passed between the two of them while the rest of us sat, unmoving, in our seats. I barely breathed as I watched the gamut of emotions play across her face, from shock to resignation.
She finally settled on a small smile. “Not like we didn’t all see this coming, right?”
The rest of us took a collective breath at her acceptance. Conversation reverted back to arguments over best men and bachelor parties, requests for an open bar at the reception, and bets over what month the deed would be done. It was a carefree breakfast, spent laughing and joking. But we all knew it couldn’t last.
Before our plates were cleaned, conversation had shifted to our agenda for the day. We stayed long after our meals were finished, formulating a plan.
A loose plan, but a plan.
By noon, Nathan’s private room was no longer a love nest, but a command center. Everything we had—weapons, ammo, papers and files on intelligence gathered, and maps—covered the tables and walls. Each detail was hammered out to everyone’s satisfaction, though we all still felt a ripple of uncertainty.
It wasn’t the best of plans, but it was all we had. I knew I was tired of waiting for another opportunity to arise, and I sensed the others were as eager to get this over with as I was. Because even after this was over, it wasn’t really over.
We still had so much to do. I wanted to stop the curse without looking over my shoulder for the remaining demigods to find me, or kill Alec or anyone else I cared about.
This part of my life ended today.
Lillian left to go shopping for the things we didn’t already have—specifically club appropriate attire for herself, Alec, and me. We would need to blend in, and her experience as a Skotadi provided her with the inside knowledge of how to do that.
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