I smother the urge to cry at my sister’s blatant diversion and slip down onto the couch. “Not yet. Oh, I met Cal.”
Silence, and then, “Oh shit.”
“You told him you were sick. He knew I wasn’t you.”
“Eh, he’s a cool guy, I knew he’d play along. If I told you Cal knew you’d never have agreed to go.”
Play along, sure, but this isn’t a game anymore. I chew my bottom lip and fight off the urge to cry. Again.
“Sawyer, what is it?”
“I think, I mean, I don’t know because I’ve never really felt anything like this, but I think I’m in love with Aden.”
There’s not a hint of sound coming through the other end.
Not even breathing.
“Celia, did I lose you?”
“What did you just say?”
“I’ve fallen in love with Aden, but he thinks I’m you and—”
“Tell him the truth, Sawyer, tell him it was my idea and—”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
I stare out at the ocean thinking it wasn’t too long ago that I was terrified of the massive sea and now I’m going to miss seeing it every day. “He was lied to about something, he hasn’t totally confided in me, but something tells me this kind of deception would be unforgivable.”
“But how do you know unless you try?”
“Cal made me promise I’d never tell. He knows Aden better than I do.” And even though there’s truth in those words they taste sour in my mouth.
“Tell him, Sawyer. Tell him it’s my fault, that I put you up to it. If he hears the reasons why he’ll understand. And if he doesn’t then he must not feel the same and you’re better off knowing that now.”
“There’s more.”
“What?”
“Jenkins died.”
“What? How?”
I tell her about how we were out on the boat and everything that happened after, making sure to gloss over the sex marathon.
“Aden’s been through so much I can’t bring myself to be the cause of more pain. Besides, it’s not me he cares about anyway. It’s you.”
“Sawyer—”
“It’s true. If he knew me . . . he wouldn’t like the real me.”
“Shit, I’m sorry. I thought this would be fun for you, that you’d let loose a little and live it up. Leave it to you to find some heavy emotional crap to deal with.”
That makes me laugh. “Right?”
“So what’re you going to do?”
“I’ll enjoy my last couple days here and then come home and get back to the real world.”
“Back to boring, huh?”
“You call it boring, I call it predictable.” Even though going home just means walking from one broken heart to another.
“Do what you need to, but Sawyer?”
“Hm?”
“Remember what this feels like, okay? Don’t forget what it’s like to fall hard for someone and never settle for anything less than this feeling.”
I don’t think it’s possible to ever feel this way about anyone again. “I won’t.”
“Good.”
“Now, no more changing the subject, tell me about your doctor’s appointment.”
She goes on to tell me that all the doctors are kooks trying to scare her into dying when she feels great. I smile at her ability to shrug off the warnings and keep up hope that she’ll fight death as long as her body will allow.
Death sentence be damned, if anyone could be the exception it’d be her.
I catch movement from outside the window. “Oh my God, Cece,” I whisper. “He’s here.”
“Shit! Okay, go. Have fun. Tell him who you are!”
His heavy feet hit the steps.
“I gotta go!”
She laughs hard. “Make him wear a condom—”
I hit END with the irrational fear that Aden could hear her from the other side of the door, just as it swings open without him knocking.
I shoot to my feet fearing he’s angry because he somehow found out the truth, but when I see the look in his eyes, I know it’s a different emotion that’s driving him.
He takes me in from head to toe and I step back at the primal hunger that shines in his eyes. “Where are you going?”
In the small space there’s nothing behind me but the bedroom. He must read my thoughts and a slow grin pulls his lips.
He shuts the door and stalks toward me. “Got your text.”
“You didn’t text back.”
“You miss me?”
“Yeah.” The word falls out on a breath.
“How much?” He’s right up to me now, his breath hot against my lips.
I tilt my head back to meet his eyes and when we’re like this there is no Celia, it’s only me and him and every single thing we make each other feel buzzing between us. “More than I should.”
His hand sifts through my hair and I lean into his touch. There’s never been a man who’s communicated such stability and safety with a single caress like Aden does. “We’re not in public.”
“I know.” And so does my body as it reacts instantly to the promise in his words.
“I want you wrapped around me.” He leans down and presses the softest kiss against my lips. “I want to feel your heart racing against my chest and know that it’s because of me.” He nips at my bottom lip. “Hearing you moan my name chases away everything, freckles.” He walks me back a step. “Nothing exists but you.”
Once we’re in the bedroom I pull away and he watches me shrug off my clothes. His eyes widen when my bra drops to the floor followed by my panties. “I don’t want to forget you.”
He pulls his shirt off over his head, his wide muscular chest on display and tensing with anticipation. “I’ll make sure you never will.” He pushes down his shorts and closes in until the warmth of his bare skin presses against mine. “I’ll mark your fucking soul.”
I force myself to stay present, to not think about having to say goodbye, and more importantly to not dwell on things I can’t change. For now, I have this powerful, caring, deserving man in my arms, and that’s where I choose to stay.
His lips touch the shell of my ear and he whispers, “The way you’ve marked mine.”
TWENTY-TWO
ADEN
I woke that next morning to the gentle sounds of Celia breathing against my chest.
Not the panic of gunfire.
Or the visions of blood and death.
Just the warmth of the woman who has managed to bring a semblance of peace to my life like nothing else ever has.
Not booze.
Pills.
Or therapy.
Even now with her hair tangled and splayed out over my arm, her leg thrown over mine, her naked body works like an anchor in a sea of madness. I wonder if that’s all this is, because like Cal pointed out I don’t know much about her, except I know how she likes to be touched, what makes her breath hitch, and her body shake. I’ve memorized the hypnotic sounds she makes when I lavish every dip and flare of her frame.