“Here,” he says, handing me a couple of them. “Set them up in the living room for me?”
I do as he asks, and I squirm my way back through the darkness and set the candles down on the coffee table. My eyes are slowly adjusting to the lack of light and I’m beginning to make out the outlines of the furniture and even Tyler’s body as he walks over to join me. “Over here,” I say. Extending both my arms, I reach for his wrist and pull him over.
Setting down a few more candles, he stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jeans and there’s a jingling noise of keys and loose change as he pulls out a lighter. He runs his thumb over the spark wheel and a burning flame flickers to life, illuminating a tiny proportion of the room. Lighting the candles we’ve brought through, he puts the lighter back in his pocket and picks up two of the six candles, carrying them back over to the kitchen. He positions one on each worktop, and as he approaches me again, I can see his entire face. There’s an orange glow cast over the room, and despite the fact that it’s raining outside the apartment feels warm and cozy.
“How about we just stay here?” he asks, arching an eyebrow. “I mean, you’re not even dressed yet. We’re gonna get soaked. Who knows, they might even cancel the display.”
Snake and Emily headed out earlier to claim a decent viewing spot for the display over the Hudson River, and we’re supposed to be meeting them within the next half-hour. I’m not sure they’d be too impressed if we didn’t show up, especially when it was Tyler who was adamant we stayed in Manhattan.
“Are we making it a tradition to skip the fireworks?” I ask teasingly.
“I’ve got an idea,” he says quietly, ignoring my question, setting the two candles down on the table and making his way back toward me. He picks up another two, firing his eyes in the direction of his room. So I head over there, carrying a third candle with me.
“What’s your idea?” I ask, placing the candle down onto one of the bedside tables. The room is dark and the weather outside is thunderous, yet the three small candles we’ve brought through provide us with some light, enough to see each other.
Only one half of Tyler’s face is lit up, and as he moves toward his bed, I watch his shadow dance across the walls. “Baby, come here,” he murmurs, and a lump rises in my throat as I follow his order. “I want to play a game.”
“A game?” I echo. I try my hardest to appear calm and confident and cool, but it seems impossible. My voice is almost a squeak. However, it doesn’t stop me from softly gripping the sheets as I crawl onto the bed next to him and sit on my knees.
Tyler licks his lips as he studies me, as if wondering if I’m too delicate, too fragile for what he has in mind. I’m not. Just slightly nervous. “Turn around,” he says quietly but firmly.
“Turn around?” I repeat, swallowing. I analyze his features as I try to figure out what he’s thinking, but he isn’t giving anything away. He’s just looking at me, expression nonchalant.
“Eden,” he says again.
I loosen up, relaxing as I take a deep breath. In the candlelight, I twist my body around so that my back is to him and my legs are crossed, and I say nothing more. I just wait.
“Take your shirt off,” he orders gently, and even against the rain, his voice seems like the most powerful thing around me right now.
It takes me by surprise, but I don’t panic. Everything feels so comfortable and just right. Closing my eyes, I exhale slowly as I reach down for the hem of my T-shirt. My heart is beating fast, but it’s not pounding against my chest and my pulse isn’t racing, so I pull it off with ease and drop it to the floor. I’m not sure what Tyler’s doing.
I suddenly shiver and I’m not sure if it’s because I’m almost completely bare and slightly cold or if it’s because I’m almost completely bare in front Tyler. Either way, I don’t feel uncomfortable.
“And this,” Tyler murmurs, the mattress beneath us shifting as he moves his body closer to mine. Carefully, he gathers my hair, moving it to one side and pressing his cool lips to the back of my shoulder, breathing heavily against my skin. His opposite hand runs along the clasp of my bra.
“What?” I whisper.