The Queen of Zombie Hearts (The White Rabbit Chronicles)

Expression growing pained, he said, “Ali—”

“I almost died yesterday,” I interjected. “I could die tomorrow or even an hour from now. I want to be with you, Cole.”

“Ali—” he repeated.

“No. You are under the impression that this decision is yours. Or your dad’s. Well, news flash. It isn’t. It’s ours. I’m ready. I’ve been ready. You’re ready.”

A battle seemed to wage in his mind. “I’ve talked myself into and out of this all day.”

So he had contemplated it. “What are my eyes saying?”

He pressed his forehead against mine. “Too much.”

“And I’m sure every word is riveting. Listen to them.”

I tangled my fingers in his hair and placed scorching kisses along his jawline. It wasn’t long before he angled his head, meeting my lips with his own, stealing my breath.

“You’re sure?” he rasped, hands beginning to wander.

He got his answer when I maneuvered him to his back...and made my move.





Chapter 23


A MIND IS A TERRIBLE

THING TO WASTE




I wanted to stand on a rooftop and shout. Hey, world! Cole and I finally had sex!

The big event ended over an hour ago, but we hadn’t moved from the rug. Well, I hadn’t. He had, but for only a moment, when he’d disposed of the condom. Then he’d returned and gathered me close. I was glad. I was still utterly overwhelmed. Me and Cole. Cole and me. The two of us. Together.

Was it stalker-clingy to think our souls were now melded together?

Probably. But I didn’t care! We’d had sex!

As much as I belonged to him, he now belonged to me. Not just in word, but in deed. There was responsibility. Accountability. And yes, those things had been a part of our relationship before, but...everything just felt different now. More intense.

He held me in his arms, as if I was a precious treasure. Considering what we’d just done—melded souls!—I had better be. I could feel the thump, thump of his heartbeat, a riotous pound in sync with my own.

“You okay?” he asked.

I propped my chin in an upraised palm and peered down at him. His dark hair was rumpled and sexy, his eyes at half-mast. His lips were slightly swollen from the force of my kisses. Honestly? He’d never looked better.

“I think so.” A deep sense of vulnerability washed over me—it wasn’t the first time. “What about you? Wishing we’d waited two more years, as planned?”

“I think we both know that plan was destined to fail. And stupid. And a crime against nature.”

I kissed the spot just over his nipple ring. “You gave it your best shot.”

“That’s all a guy can do, really,” he said as he played with my hair.

“Well, A for effort.”

“Oh, are we scoring each other now?”

“No!” I blurted...then nibbled on my bottom lip. “Yes?”

He chuckled. “You are off the charts, love. The best. My favorite. No one compares.”

“Obviously,” I replied, my tone imperious.

His chuckle morphed into a snort.

Another wave of vulnerability washed over me. “You love me, right? Now and always?”

“Of course I love you. And you believe me, because you trust me to always be honest with you.”

Just like I would always be...honest with...

Oh, crap. I hadn’t been honest with him. I hadn’t told him about Helen. I’d had sex with him, but hadn’t freaking told him about Helen.

I knew how devastating a single lie could be. How it could destroy a lifetime of trust. And this was a lie. A lie of omission. But I couldn’t tell him now. Not while our clothes were scattered around us and we were basking in the warmth of the fire.

So...when?

Tomorrow. Yes. And he would forgive me. He would understand. Because of what we’d just shared, we would work things out easier now, each more willing to compromise.

In a desperate bid to change the subject, I said the first thing that popped into my head. “Have you ever been with someone like me before?” And then wanted to slink away and hide.

The thought of him with another girl—even girls who’d come pre-Ali—did something to me. Something it hadn’t done before. I wanted to put each one in the hospital. Just for a few days. Just as long as blood flowed.

“Someone like you? There is no one else like you.”

“Inexperienced.”

A sigh. “One,” he hedged.

“Did you love her? How did she act afterward?”

He sighed. “Do you really want to talk about this?”

“Yes.”

Tracing his fingers down my spine, caressing, he said, “No, I didn’t love her. That was my do-anyone-who-agrees stage. And I don’t know how she acted. Her parents came home and I had to sneak out the window.”

I still wanted to make her bleed, but maybe I’d also bring her flowers. I didn’t like the thought of her all alone, vulnerable, like I was now. “How did you feel?”

“Do you care, or are you really asking how I feel about us?”

I gulped. “Us.”

He held me tighter. “I want all of you, forever, you and me, every day.”

Gena Showalter's books