“I guess it means that things are about to get complicated.”
Ari stared at the ceiling. She thought about those glow-in-the-dark stars she stuck on the ceiling over her bed in her parent’s house. Back when the only other person sharing her bed was her dog, Jerry, or one of her girlfriends having a slumber party.
“Complicated how?” she asked.
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Ari. Not all of it is good. And like I told you before, with my brother on the hunt, getting close to someone is dangerous. You saw what he did to Oscar.”
“Well, Davis, there’s a lot you don’t know about me, too. I’m not going to be scared off.”
“Really? Because I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s the one behind Jace Watkins coming after you.”
The thought made her blood run cold.
“I’m not afraid,” she lied. Then she rolled toward Davis and placed a series of kisses on his neck. “If it’s worth it.”
He slid one hand under the covers and between her legs, stroking the spot where she’d showed him the two tattoos the other day. Ari’s own hand traveled past the soft hair on his belly.
“Before things get complicated, can we just have one last night? Complication free?” Ari swung a leg over his waist and pulled herself on top of him, easing her body against his. Feeling how hard he was. His need. “Just one more night where this is enough?”
In the shadowy dark of her room Davis brought her to his chest. Ari closed her eyes and braced herself for him. She expected him to be rough—intense like the other times. She loved the way he rocked her hard, unafraid that she would break. He knew she could take it—loved it, even. He entered her slowly, the furor gone. Surprised, she moved with him, rolling her hips languidly. His touch seared, making her skin burn. Making her feel wanted. Worshipped. He licked the star between her breasts where he’d bruised her. He moved to the two under her collarbone and his mouth felt like a salve, healing her loss. Ari’s fingers traced the jagged and rough scar on his side, wishing his wounds away. Both had reminders of how much they’d suffered. This time they marked one another differently, with desire and affection.
Davis’s movements were so caring, so attentive, that when Ari finally felt herself spiral to that place, she allowed her heart to go along with her body—even just for this once. In the darkened room, her eyes met his and he breathed her name, and she knew he felt the same.
* * *
Davis left the way he had the other night. Like a ninja through the back window. Before he left, he leaned back in, easing over the windowsill. Over his shoulder, she saw a movement and pulled away. “Davis,” she whispered.
He looked and said, “That’s just Boyd.”
“Did he follow us?”
Pushing her hair out of her face he said, “I’m never alone, Ari. That’s how serious this is.” He kissed her so hard she felt it in her toes. “I’ll be gone for a couple days. Oscar’s funeral and everything. I’ll be in touch, okay?”
“Okay.”
She watched as he and Boyd both easily climbed the fence.
“Good grief,” Ari mumbled, latching the window and walking out of her room for the kitchen. Leftover Thai sounded perfect after a night of dancing and sex.
Three microwaved minutes later, Ari banged her hip into the dining room table almost losing the bowl of rice and massaman she carried over a glass of milk. “Don’t fall, don’t fall,” she whispered. It didn’t matter, though. She saw the faint glow of the television from the living room and stopped in her tracks. “Oliver?”
“It’s me.”
Ari spotted Veronica curled up on the love seat, her face lit from the blue screen. “Oh, hey,” she said. “What are you doing up?”
“Light sleeper.” She smirked at Ari.
“Oh, geez.” Ari sank into the armchair. “Really?”
Veronica nodded and covered her laugh with her hand. “Sounded fun, though.”
Ari glanced at the TV and saw an apocalypse survival show. Oliver’s girlfriend was certainly an enigma. With her long, dark hair and a perfect nose, she had that beauty-queen thing going on, but she kept seeing Oliver and she was into the apocalypse. She couldn’t be that bad.
“Do I look like a whore? Dumping Nick and then bringing home another guy?”
“Well,” Veronica said, looking away from the TV. “When you put it that way, yes. But, I’m not judging. I think
you had to make a choice—and you did.”