Wings of the Wicked

17


I MUST HAVE FALLEN ASLEEP IN THE CAR BECAUSE I was abruptly aware that it had stopped and Will was climbing out. A moment later, he had my door open and was lifting me into his arms. He carried me into the house and up a flight of stairs. I tensed and swiveled my head around as he pushed open the door to a room. I took a deep breath and realized instantly that the room smelled like Will. The rich scent made me giddy, and I buried my face in his chest so he wouldn’t see my involuntary smile.

When Will put me down on the bed and pulled away, I sat up dizzily. I felt better after sleeping on the drive home, but I was still drunk. I watched Will return with a tank top and cotton shorts. He laid them down beside me and purposely avoided my gaze. The thick tension between us practically fogged my vision.

“These are Lauren’s,” he said. “She doesn’t mind you borrowing them tonight. There’s an extra toothbrush in the bathroom if you want it.”

“I’ll thank her in the morning.” I tilted my head to see his eyes better. “Is this your room?”

He nodded and started to turn away.

Will’s room. Will’s bed. My nerve endings lit on fire.

“Will,” I said, touching his arm. Muscle clenched beneath my fingertips.

He turned back to me, still averting his eyes. Anger spiked through me.

“Look at me,” I said. It felt strangely intimate being in his bed. Things I shouldn’t have wondered swelled inside me, like all the things we could do right here where I was sitting. His scent filled my head, making me feel even more intoxicated.

My anger washed away the second his gaze lifted to mine. My heart felt heavy when I saw how dull the color of his eyes was. I pulled my legs underneath me and stood up on my knees. I toyed with the hem of my skirt and watched his gaze on my fingers and bare skin. His jaw tightened when I edged closer to him. My hand trailed up his arm and shoulder to wrap around the back of his neck. He swallowed and watched my other hand slide up his chest, moving over the ridges of his muscles. My fingers touched his lips, and my other hand pulled his face down closer to mine.

“Kiss me,” I whispered slowly, a desperate plea, and I stroked my thumb across his bottom lip. My heart pounded, and I wanted him so badly it felt like I’d jump out of my skin.

His mouth parted, and his gaze fell to my lips before flickering back up. His hands slid around my hips, and he pulled me against him. “No,” he said, but his body betrayed his pledge.

“I order you to kiss me,” I said into his lips. My fingers dipped into his waistband and began to unbuckle his belt and jeans. He took a deep breath and his hands tightened on my hips, but he didn’t stop me.

He turned his face into my neck and let out a long, frustrated groan, burning my skin with his breath and sending shivers through me. He nuzzled my hair, drinking in my scent as my fingernails ran softly down the back of his neck. “You can’t do that to me,” he said huskily, his lips brushing my skin.

I slipped my hands under his shirt, and I smoothed them over his solid abdomen. “Then kiss me because you want to.”

He lifted his head and brought his face so close to mine that I could feel the heat radiating off him. His breathing was ragged when his mouth finally met mine, the kiss deep and full of something far more carnal than any kiss before it. He kissed me as fiercely as he fought in battle, with as much determination and calculation as he had when he killed, and I melted into his body. No one had ever kissed me like that before, no one could ever kiss me like he did. I inhaled the scent of his kiss as I tasted it. He hadn’t kissed me in so very long that I was hungry for it, starving for his lips. I wound my hands around his shoulders and nipped his bottom lip gently. He squeezed me into his chest more tightly and let out a low rumble from his throat.

I pulled him over me until his body pushed mine deeper into his bed. My fingers wound through his hair as his hands explored every inch of me. His kisses moved south, and his lips found my stomach. I arched my back, and his arm slid around my waist, pulling me into him, and a soft whimper escaped me. I tugged at his shirt and yanked it over his head before sliding my hands across his bare chest and shoulders, slipping a hand over the tattoos on his arm and digging my nails into solid muscle. His mouth returned to mine, deep and exploring, and he kissed my neck, grazing my skin gently with his teeth. I kissed his shoulder as I finished unbuttoning his jeans and started to slip his belt off from around his waist.

Then his lips at my neck stopped abruptly. Before I could register what had happened, he reeled back until he was no longer touching me. I sat up in a wave of disappointment that beat at my heart and soul.

“Will—”

He backed away from the bed and my mouth clamped shut. “I … No. I can’t do this.”

“What’s wrong?” I straightened my shirt, feeling the sudden sting of embarrassment.

“You’re drunk,” he said, his voice back to normal. He began to button his jeans and put his belt back on, his hands visibly shaking.

I crept to the edge of the bed. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not you right now,” he said firmly, and backed away from me. “You don’t know what you’re doing.”

I slid off the bed and eased toward him. My entire body trembled, and I was still dizzy with desire and alcohol. When I got to him, I smoothed my hands up his bare chest, my fingers lingering over the tattoos on his right arm before threading through his hair. “Yes, I do. And so do you.”

He grabbed my wrists and pulled my hands away. “No, you don’t. And it’s not right that I do.”

I searched his eyes for any brightness, any sign of passion left in him. “Don’t you want me?”

He deflated against me, exhaling. He dipped his head and kissed my shoulder before brushing his mouth along my jaw, his hands around my wrists tightening just slightly. “You have no idea how much I want you,” he whispered against my skin.

I edged closer to him, pushing my body into his heat. “Then you can have me.”

“Ellie …”

“Don’t you love me?”

He softened and kissed my wrist, his breath and lips warm. His mouth and nose nuzzled the delicate skin there and something inside my chest collapsed with a rush. “I do love you. More than anything. And that’s exactly why I’m walking away.”

He kissed my cheek and as he let go of my wrists, I shoved him away in anger. He blinked at me in surprise, confusion filling his eyes. I backed away from him unsteadily, nearly falling over before catching my balance.

“What’s wrong with me?” I spat, narrowing my eyes. “It’s not just tonight that you won’t kiss me or touch me or anything. It’s not just because I’m drunk. Why do you keep doing this?”

He shook his head tiredly. “Nothing’s wrong with you. I have to go.”

“Don’t,” I pleaded, reaching for his arms. “Stay with me, Will. Stay, please. We don’t have to do anything. I just want you here with me.”

He squeezed his eyes shut and drew in a long, shaky breath, the muscle in his jaw quivering. “I have to disobey you now. You’ll thank me in the morning.” He lowered his head to kiss my lips as chastely as in our very first kiss so long ago.

He pulled away and disappeared from the room. After a few minutes of humiliating solitude, I changed into Lauren’s pajamas. When I burrowed deep into the mattress and tugged the sheets up to my chin tightly, Will’s scent was all over the bed. I imagined him reading a book or playing his guitar in this spot on a quiet afternoon. It turned out that falling asleep in his bed was much easier than I thought it would be.


The next morning, I woke with a pounding headache. The sun pouring in through the window lit the mocha-painted walls of Will’s bedroom with a golden glow. It was bare and very clean. The most color came from a large bookcase, and a plush black leather sofa chair sat in a corner. On the wall opposite the bed were three guitars propped up on stands. I recognized all three of them. The room still smelled like him and brought back the memory and shame of last night, when Will had brought me in here. The shirt I had torn off him was still lying on the floor as a brutal reminder. I felt sick to my stomach, not because I was that hung over, but because I was embarrassed and furious with myself for the way I had behaved. I wasn’t the kind of girl who threw herself at a boy. I’d made a lot of mistakes last night.

I slid out from underneath the blankets, running my hand along the soft mattress, touching the hem of the pillowcase. Being in his bed felt powerfully intimate, and beneath the smell of last night’s party, I caught his scent on my skin. His smell was all over me. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath before dragging myself out of his bed. I moved through his bedroom, touching everything, picking up small things off the dresser. I examined a sprig of dried flowers that looked like jasmine. I loved the scent, especially when mixed with vanilla. I set it down carefully and lifted a decorative hair comb beside it. The piece looked more than a century old and was glossy and delicate. The comb part of it was black and iridescent like an oil slick, and a carved bird of all different shades of purple, gold, and red rose out of what looked like flower petals … or flames.

I returned the hair comb to the dresser and stood there, contemplating what to do next. Not wanting to lose the wonderful feeling of Will’s scent all over me, I settled on going into the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth with the extra toothbrush he had offered. I could feel my mascara crusting around my eyes, and my hair was a tangled mess. Running a brush through my hair was a battle, but soon I felt refreshed with a clean face.

I dug my cell out of the pocket of my skirt. I had three texts from Kate asking where I was and if I was all right. I texted her back that I was alive and with Will and that I’d call her later. What I didn’t say, but wanted to, was that I was never sneaking out to a college party with her again—until I was in college, at least. Too much had happened last night that didn’t need to happen. She’d left me on my own with a guy I didn’t know. The thought of it made me flush briefly with anger. When I saw her next, there would be some words exchanged. I also prayed she’d had the sense enough to grab my purse and jacket from that house when she left.

I didn’t have a change of clothes, so I stayed in Lauren’s pajamas. They were lightweight and I was a little chilly, but the cold felt good for my hangover. My stomach growled, so I crept out of Will’s room. As soon as I opened the door, I caught the thick, delicious scent of eggs and bacon. Nathaniel often made dinner for us when we were over, and even though this was my first time staying the night here, I wasn’t surprised that he’d cook breakfast. I forced a smile on my face and straightened out my tank as I stepped downstairs and followed the smells into the kitchen. My gut dropped when I saw it was Will at the stove cooking instead of Nathaniel. My fake smile disappeared. No need for that anymore.

He looked up at me as I walked in. And then he looked away. I opened my mouth to speak, but he beat me to it. “How are you feeling?” He prodded at the eggs frying in the pan in front of him.

I gave him a smart smirk and crossed my arms over my chest. “Peachy. How are your knuckles?”

He set his fist down on the counter without dropping the spatula. The eggs smelled like they were burning. “They attacked me first.”

“You could have just gotten in the car and driven away.”

The look he gave me was serious. “I could have, but I didn’t. I made a choice, regardless if it was wrong or right. I wanted to do a lot more than I did.”

“You’re burning those eggs.”

He took a deep breath. “Ellie.”

“If you’re going to make me breakfast, then don’t burn it.”

He took the pan away from the heat and scraped out the eggs with the spatula and placed them on a plate. I caught the faintest glimmer of a smile. “Who says I made these for you?”

I sat down at the bar. “Me.”

He filled a glass with orange juice for me and presented it with the plateful of eggs and bacon as if it were a peace offering. “My knuckles are fine.”

I took the plate and glass. “That’s a shame.”

His brow flickered, and he leaned his back against the counter on the other side of the room. Even from this far away, I could see the familiar flash in his eyes. I could’ve seen it a mile away in the dead of night.

“There was a comb in your room,” I said. “On top of your dresser. With a bird on it.”

“It’s yours. The bird is a phoenix … rising from its ashes.”

“Has it always been mine, like my necklace?” I asked.

He shook his head. “No. I bought the comb for you over a hundred years ago, from a …”

But I didn’t hear the rest of what he said. My mind slipped away, drifting into the memories of that day.

The market in Shanghai was packed with people roaming from makeshift tent to makeshift tent, bartering loudly, shopkeepers darting after thieves. The street was a blaze of color, sights, and sounds. Heady scents of oils and spices pulled my attention in every direction. I wanted to see everything there was.

“Dragon,” a man called in Chinese.

Will turned his head, and I followed his gaze to a small elderly man behind a table covered with jewelry and figurines carved from ivory and jade. He was smiling, watching us both as we walked through the market. I took Will’s hand and led him to the tent, eager to see what the man offered.

“Dragon,” the man said again, and nodded to Will, his smile widening. He reached over his beautiful wares and lifted a comb with an intricately carved mythological firebird adorning it. He set it in his palm and held out his hand to me. “Fenghuang. Phoenix.”

My eyes captured the comb, roving over the infinite detail and incredible colors. I took it from the man and brushed my fingers over the bird’s wings.

“We’ll take it,” Will said. He pulled a couple coins from his pocket and gave them to the man, who gave a small bow and thanked Will several times.

I drew a little breath when Will turned to me, tucked my hair back on one side, and slid the comb in. “Thank you,” I told him, watching his face, mesmerized by the happiness in his eyes and the one corner of his lips that pulled into a smile.

“Beautiful,” he said, and his thumb brushed my cheek.

My eyes fluttered and I was back in the present, looking up into Will’s face once again. “I remember it,” I said. “Were you going to give it back to me? Now that I’m here … again. Alive.”

His jaw set and he swallowed. “Yes. Eventually. I wanted to give it back to you when you remembered it. You can have it now if you’d like.”

“Thank you,” I said, wishing now that it was in my hands so I could touch it. Instead I touched the winged pendant around my neck, watching Will’s face as he watched my hand.

“Why do you have jasmine, too, of all things?” I asked curiously, recalling how carefully dried the petals were, how strongly the scent had remained. “Did you know that it’s my favorite flower?”

“It reminds me of you,” he said in a quiet voice, his gaze still lowered. “You’ve always smelled like jasmine.”

Of course he would know I loved jasmine. He knew everything about me. I dug through my memories that shifted in and out of focus, and couldn’t remember myself ever choosing a different perfume or scented lotion. I always chose jasmine. For hundreds of years, I had been choosing jasmine.

Overwhelmed with emotion, I felt my eyes burning, and I poked at my plate. “Where’s Nathaniel?”

“Out with Lauren.”

I took a bite of the eggs to please him. They weren’t as burned as I’d thought. He’d made me breakfast despite what had happened last night, and I wasn’t sure I had it in me to tell him thank you. Eating the breakfast meant more to him than stupid words. He knew I appreciated it.

“You shouldn’t have done what you did last night,” I said.

He watched me carefully. “I don’t regret anything.”

“You shouldn’t have interfered. I had everything under control.” It was a lie and he knew it. While he had every right to laugh in my face, he didn’t.

“That’s not what it looked like. That guy was going to take advantage of you. I know you better than anyone. If you were in the right state of mind, you’d never have let him touch you like that.”

I took another bite, because I didn’t quite know what to say. He was right. Brian was a creep. I didn’t know if he was capable of something as awful as rape, but I was also pretty sure I would have been able to stop him if things were about to get that far.

“I don’t regret pulling him off you,” Will continued, his voice firm, “and I hate that you think I should. I will never regret anything that I have to do in order to protect you.”

“Still, you shouldn’t have beaten them up. You against a hundred of them still wouldn’t be a fair fight. You could have killed them all. You scared me, Will. I thought you were about to snap.” I knew he had a temper, and underneath all of that control, there was a darker, volatile nature. This was Will, the one person I knew better than my own self, but I didn’t know if there was anything he wouldn’t do to protect me.

“I was angry and I know it was wrong, but that guy deserved far worse than what I did to him. If I upset you, then I apologize for that, but I am not sorry for striking any of them.”

“You shouldn’t have followed us to that party, either. You had no right.”

“Ellie, you’re being hunted,” he said. “And I am your Guardian. I kept my distance, but I had to go, just in case. What if you’d been attacked? What if a demonic reaper like Merodach had shown up and killed you or someone else? You shouldn’t have put yourself and Kate at risk, let alone everyone else in that house.”

I sighed and pushed my plate away, unable to keep eating. “Do we have to talk about this again?”

“I just don’t think you’re considering the safety of others, let alone yourself.”

I ground my teeth and rapped my nails against the counter. “Look. I’d just nearly died fighting Orek, and my own father even tried to hurt me. I’ve been going through a lot. I feel like I’m going crazy. Getting out and doing something new felt like a good idea.”

“I should have been at your side,” he said earnestly. “Wherever you go, I should be with you. You are my responsibility, and I can’t protect you if you’re away from me.”

“I can’t stand being around you when you treat me as if I’m just your responsibility. Like I’m a stranger. I’m the last person who should be a stranger to you.”

He frowned, dropping his head and looking up at me through his lashes. “Then what do I need to do?”

I bit down on the inside of my cheek as my chest tightened and I tried not to cry. “If I knew that, I would have ordered you to do it already.”

He smiled that beautiful smile of his, and I almost let out a sob. I wanted him to tuck my hair behind my ear like he did, hold me in his arms that way he did, kiss me like he did last night—anything but sit frozen like a statue inches from me. I loved him so much it hurt. He was so close to me, yet impossible to reach.

“It was hard for me to stand outside and wait,” he said, his voice breaking more and more. “I knew what he wanted—what he tried—to do. I waited and waited for you to wake up and pummel that guy, because I know you could’ve. I was so angry, and my fists were rolled so tight my hands were bleeding. I tried not to interfere, I really did, but then it was clear that you couldn’t get out of there on your own. I couldn’t wait anymore.”

I was biting hard on the inside of my cheek, imagining him trying to hold himself back and let me handle the situation on my own. I had been in way over my head and too drunk to save myself or even know what was going on.

He continued, looking away from me. “Before things got really bad, I was jealous. When he touched you … I wanted to kill him.”

“But if I’m not with you, then one day I’ll be in a relationship with someone else,” I said. “You won’t really have a right to be jealous.”

“Won’t I?”

“Well, we’re not together, so I can do whatever I want. Is that what Kate was yelling at you about? Because you were acting like we’re together when we weren’t?”

He stepped around the bar and sat on the stool beside me. “Do you think I want it this way?”

“Then do something about it, Will!” I shouted. “I don’t want to wait on you forever. I don’t have forever like you do. You can’t waltz in on me when I’m with a guy and throw me over your shoulder like a caveman. That’s not fair.”

“He was going to rape you!” His temper erupted and he slammed his fist down on the counter, making me jump.

I recoiled, the unbearable truth of his words stinging, and the next moment, my eyes began to burn. The memory of Brian’s hands all over me, the stink of beer on his breath suffocating me—an ill feeling flooded through me, and I swallowed hard. I’d come so close, so treacherously close. This wasn’t a joke. This wasn’t about Will overstepping his bounds or me refusing to admit I’d put myself in danger. I wasn’t invincible. And though I was the Preliator, I was still just a girl. I spent so much time fighting supernatural monsters that I didn’t realize ordinary people could hurt me too. The reality of what could have happened clawed at me, and I covered my mouth with my hand and let out a sob. Will touched my arms gently, but I stood and stepped away from him. I could still feel Brian groping me sickeningly, my skin crawling with the memory.

I wiped at my face, choking on the taste of salt in my tears. “It still … it’s not fair. What if next time I’m with a boy I like?”

“I won’t be able to bear it.”

“What will it be, Will?” I asked, my voice rising as I fought my tears. “Are you going to storm in and claim me then, too?”

His jaw and lips hardened. His fist, resting on the counter, tightened until his knuckles turned white, as if the war that waged within him grew more violent and he was trapped in silence. His brow darkened and he shook his head, his eyes flashing bright, glued to mine.

“I’ve already claimed you,” he said, and grabbed my hand. He stood and yanked me into him, and his mouth crushed against mine as his other arm wrapped around my waist. His touch erased the memory of Brian’s burning hot hands on my body, and I let Will’s presence surround me. I threw my arms up and around his shoulders and stood on my tiptoes just to get a little closer to him.

Then my heart twisted and broke. I shoved him away. “No!”

“Ellie—”

“You’re driving me insane!” I cried. “I can’t take this push and pull anymore. You kiss me and then you won’t kiss me and then you do. It’s not fair! It’s got to be one or the other, Will!”

His body locked up again, and he stared at me. After a long, agonizing minute, he spoke. “What do you want from me? Anything. It’s yours.”

My lips quivered, holding back a sob. “Do you even have to ask?”

He didn’t respond and we returned to that face-off state.

“Will,” I said breathlessly. “I just want you. Five hundred years you waited to tell me you loved me, and as soon as you do, you tell me you can’t because Michael will take you from me. Why is loving me so wrong? I don’t care what my brother said to you, and neither should you. Why do you care so much about being perfect? How could you think that you and I are so wrong?” I stepped toward him and ran my hand down the solid muscle of his arm and hooked my fingers around his. “You know how right this is, how right we are. I don’t care what I am in some other life. I was an archangel. I was Gabriel. I am Ellie now, Will. This body is human. I feel human. I don’t want you to treat me like I’m untouchable, because I’m not. I want you to touch me. I want to be yours.”

He closed his eyes and his forehead touched mine. “I’m so sorry for everything. I never wanted to hurt you or make you doubt me. I need you to trust me. I need you. And I love you. I want you. You know I do. I’ll never stop doing any of those things until the day I die for you.”

I closed my eyes and took a painful breath at those words. It was a possibility that I had for so long refused to acknowledge, the possibility that he would die defending me, just as every one of my past Guardians had. I felt their losses greatly in my heart, but the idea of losing Will hit me to my soul. I opened my eyes once again to meet his beautiful emerald gaze.

“You told me yesterday in my room that this is me, who I’ve always been, but I don’t feel that way,” I said. “Is it me that you love, or is it Gabriel?”

He looked so sad in that instant. “I love this beautiful thing inside of you that makes you human. Your soul, your fragility, your human passion. None of that is Gabriel. It’s all you, Ellie.”

My lips quivered. “If I wasn’t human, would you still love me?”

He gave me the smallest smile. “I’d still love you forever.”

“You know I’m yours,” I whispered, and kissed him softly. He let me step into him without resistance.

“And I’m yours,” he said. “I always have been and always will be.”

I bit my lip. “I know.”

He kissed me then, his lips moving with mine as if they were made for each other. His fingers wound through my hair, and he deepened the kiss further with each passing heartbeat. The sadness receded away from me, and I let myself drown in him instead. Intensity crackled between us and heat rushed through me, longing and desperate. His hands traveled lower, spilling over my shoulders and tightening around my hips. An ache flashed low in my body and a whimper escaped me, a sound that triggered something deep in him as well.

He lifted me off the floor and onto the counter, shoving the plates away and knocking over the glass of orange juice. When he pushed my knees apart, hands running up my thighs and sending a strike of lightning desire up my spine, he crushed his body against mine and I forgot about the mess entirely. His mouth and tongue were hot against my neck, and I buried my hands in his hair as his arms wrapped around me and his fingertips raked down my back. One of his hands found the point of my hip, and his teeth nicked the bend of my neck. I dug my nails into his shoulder and my head fell back, something wild in me craving him. I grabbed a fistful of his shirt, and ached to tear it off him, to do anything to break down the thin, aggravating barrier of cloth between our skin. I fumbled with the buttons, gasping for breath when his mouth wasn’t on mine, and I pushed his open shirt over his shoulders, my eyes capturing his muscled chest and the tattoos spreading up his arm and the side of his neck.

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” he murmured against my throat between kisses. “Every time I look at you I feel like I’m about to explode, no matter how still I try to stay around you. Inside I’m like a hurricane. Everything you do … you drive me crazy.” His mouth returned to mine hungrily. “The way you play with the little curls in the ends of your hair.” He kissed me again, his hands squeezing my sides. “The way you wring the hem of your shirt with your fingers and make that little face when you’re deep in thought.” Another kiss and a small, secret smile. His thumbs glided under my shirt, just an inch, and the contact made me gasp and dig my nails into the back of his neck. “Where you touch me it feels like I’m on fire.” Again, he kissed me, long and deep and leisurely.

His hands slipped completely under my shirt, but stayed respectfully around my waist. The sensation of his hot skin on mine numbed my thoughts until my body began to take control, as if it knew exactly what to do. I touched his arms, applying enough pressure to let him know I wanted his hands to keep going. But he was hesitant, careful, and my own feelings were mixed. The more aware I became, the more I questioned what my body wanted. I wanted him, every inch of me did, but I wasn’t sure if I was ready to go that far yet. A silent war raged between my mind and my body as he kissed me. I pulled back, and the rigidness in his shoulders collapsed, his hands sliding down my sides and resting around my thighs.

I stared into his face, studying every bit of him that I’d known so well for so long. His lips, that perfect full Cupid’s bow. His dark brow, where so much of his intensity came from. His eyes, that gleaming, radioactive green. He wasn’t smiling now, but I remembered the little line that grew beside his right eye whenever he did. I brushed the hair off his forehead—it was a wild mess from my hands anyway—and ran my palm across the two-day-old roughness on his jaw. I rarely saw him perfectly shaved, but I liked it that way. Loved it. Loved him. He didn’t always make the right decisions, but it always turned out okay. Every imperfection he had was perfect. He was perfect to me.

“Ellie,” he sighed, his chest rising and falling with the word. When he said my name, even when he teased me, it was the most wonderful sound in the world. I closed my eyes as he said my name again, this time his lips brushing against my cheek as he spoke. “Ellie, I love you. You weren’t supposed to forget that I did. I told you not to.”

I shook my head. “I never forgot.”

If he didn’t love me, he wouldn’t have stopped what I’d started last night. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t be so patient with me right now. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t fight so hard for me. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t risk his soul for me.

I touched his cheek and lifted his chin so that our eyes met firmly, so that he understood what I said next to be the absolute truth. “I love you, Will.”

He closed his eyes and set his hands down on the counter on either side of me. I wrapped a hand around his cheek and thumbed his jaw gently. He leaned into my hand and kissed my palm.

I heard the garage door rise and my heart sank, but Will didn’t move like I thought he would. He leaned forward and rested his forehead against my shoulder, breathing softly. My hands hung around the back of his neck, trembling. A minute later, Nathaniel and Lauren walked in, awkwardly unbuttoning their coats and storing them away in the closet. Lauren gave Will and me a knowing, apologetic look and tightened her mouth. Heat flushed in my cheeks, but I was grateful and felt braver when Will didn’t step away from me. He never showed me affection in front of anyone, so his simple nearness would be the best I’d get.

“Sorry,” Lauren said. “We interrupted, didn’t we?”

I tucked my hair behind my ear, physically aware of how swollen and numb my lips were from kissing him. “No. You’re fine. I was just leaving.” I started to slide off the counter, and Will took my hands to help me. After a moment, he took a reluctant step back as if it pained him to do so, and he buttoned his shirt slowly. I grabbed a dish towel and started to mop up the mess of orange juice.

“Stay awhile, Ell,” she offered with a smile. “I never get to see you.”

The offer was tempting since I really, really didn’t want to go home and face my mom’s wrath just then. I looked up at Will, hoping he would agree and then it would be settled.

He touched my arm. “You should stay.”

My gaze fell to his hand on my skin. “All right.”

“Good,” Lauren said as she walked toward me and took my hand. She pulled me away from Will, who let his hand fall, and I suddenly felt cold. Lauren led me through the kitchen, and I glanced at Nathaniel. He didn’t look happy. Just before Lauren took me into the living room, I glanced over my shoulder. Nathaniel and Will were now locked in a staring match. Will shoved his hands into his pockets, and Nathaniel beckoned with a sideways nod of his head for Will to follow him out into the garage. When they disappeared, I felt a terrible hitch in my gut and wondered if whatever had just ignited between Will and me was already dead.