“Sadie, what’s wrong?” He stepped around the coffee table and pushed her ponytail over her shoulder.
“It’s … I …” She closed her eyes and blurted out the words before she could change her mind. “I have scars from the avalanche. I—I don’t want you to see them.”
He ran his hand across her shoulder and down her arm, squeezing her fingers with his. “I’m not afraid of a few scars.” His warm breath blew across the skin on her neck and rose all the little hairs there.
She shook her head and looked down, her cheeks and ears hot with embarrassment. “They’re not just some little scars. They’re disgusting.” She couldn’t keep the hitch out of her voice.
“Trust me.” He gave a little tug on her sleeve, and her heart galloped into her throat.
Though she didn’t want to, she pulled her arms into her sweatshirt. Dread coated her tongue in a sickeningly sour taste. As she grabbed the bottom hem and inched the fabric up over her head, her arms shook so hard she knew Bjørn could feel it. She kept the bulk of the sweatshirt over her arms, closed her eyes, and angled her shoulder so he couldn’t see the scar along her collarbone. Why couldn’t she have worn a T-shirt instead of the tank top? Then she could keep some of her scars hidden.
He feathered a kiss on the exposed skin of her shoulder. She gulped in a breath and held it. His next kiss branded her just below her ear, and she curled her toes as heat spread through her body. Showing him her arms was dangerous. It would cool all the sensations racing through her body like a dip in Resurrection Bay’s ice-cold waters.
“Please, let me help you.” Bjørn gave her a kiss on the jawbone, his palm cupping the back of her neck as he pulled away.
The desperation in his voice didn’t escape her, like her pain somehow affected him. She opened her eyes and turned to look at him. She wasn’t sure what expression she expected to see, but his unwavering eye contact and calm, even breaths pushed her to stop hiding. Giving him a quick nod, she sucked in a breath and pulled her arms the rest of the way out of her sweatshirt, handing the fabric to him.
Like two magnets drawn together, her gaze snapped to her puckered skin. Tears filled her vision and disgust closed her throat. She turned her head away, closing her eyes as a tear tracked down her cheek. The soft touch of fingers starting at her wrist and working their way up almost made her throw up.
“How did an avalanche do this?” He shifted next to her, his hand reaching for her other arm.
“When the snow hit the cabin, it pushed me into the wood stove before shoving me to the other side of the room.” She squeezed her eyes even tighter with the memory of the burning pain. She touched her collarbone, then dropped her hand. “Thankfully, I can hide the ugly things, and it didn’t get my face.” Her bitter laugh filled her with shame. “So selfish. I’d take hideous scars all over if it meant Melinda was still here.”
He lifted her arm up and pressed a kiss where molted skin started on the inside of her wrist. Flinching, she tried to pull away, but his gentle, yet firm hold on her stilled her. He slid one hand up her arm to cup her elbow and kissed the inside of the bend in her arm. The bitter taste in her mouth balled to a solid stone, making it hard to swallow.
“Don’t … I—” Her skin tingled at his touch, but it wasn’t the crawling sensation of disgust. Another tear raced down her cheek. “Please. Sto—” The word cut short with another kiss where the burn was the deepest. “They’re ugly.” She choked out the words. How could he not see that? He shook his head as he ran his hand over them, really looking at them like he was gazing at a masterpiece.
“You’re wrong, Sadie.” He brought her wrist up so she could see and placed another kiss on top of the first. “Scars aren’t ugly. They’re beautiful reminders that you embrace life to the fullest, hit trials and hardships, and survived.”
He peered at her, and she swore he looked straight into her soul. She swallowed, her heart pounding so hard in her chest it was about to burst out. Did he really mean that?
“You can’t get scars while staying in safety.” He leaned forward, pressing his lips to the wrinkled skin on her collarbone next to her shoulder.
Joy and doubt warred within, threatening to overwhelm her. So many people had cowered with one look at her skin. Most of the time, she couldn’t stomach looking at it. He trailed his lips along her collarbone and up her neck toward her mouth, spiraling hope in hot waves straight to her heart. Bjørn’s declaration settled beneath her skin as she placed her palms on his shoulders.
He stopped, his lips hovering a millimeter away. His choppy breaths mingled with hers, loud in her ears. She shivered. Not from cold, but from the desperation for what he said to be true.
“I wish you could see what I see.” His lips brushed against hers. “You’re so amazing. So gorgeous, both inside and out. You’re—”
She captured his lips with hers, wrapping her arms around his neck as her entire body sparked to life. His hands bunched the back of her tank, then spread wide as he pulled her closer. She angled her head, deepening the kiss. She’d finally found someone who not only saw beyond her scars, but found beauty in them.
If Bjørn could look at her and see something wonderful, maybe she could too. She’d just have to hold tight to Bjørn’s words, repeating them in her head until she believed them. He pulled the rubber band from her ponytail and threaded his fingers through her hair with a sigh as he kissed along her neck. If he kept kissing her like this, she might not have to repeat his words after all.