She nodded slowly, and I returned to the control panel, searching for the calm blue she’d used. I found a bright blue, then a teal, then a purple, and finally settled for a soft pink. Calming, and not sexual or intimate at all.
“Really? Do your protectees normally have their lives fall apart in front of you? Do they normally find out their idols were liars?” She was going to keep on pushing, wasn’t she? Of course she was. I’d hurt her feelings, and she was flailing for a safer topic.
“Your grandmother wasn’t a liar. She was a hero.”
Between Henri’s stories, the wine, and the sense of connection to her Didi’s past, Grace’s brightness had been returning all evening. But now my temper was ruining everything the same way it always did.
You should apologize.
No, you should tell her to get onto her own bunk and go to sleep.
I paced back to the bed and sat on the edge of the bunk beside her despite myself. I stayed far enough away that we didn’t make contact, but this way I could stare at the opposite wall instead of looking at her. “My father was violent when he drank.”
She let out a soft sigh that almost sounded like an apology. “And you’re afraid you’ll do the same?”
Why was I telling her any of this? I didn’toweher an apology. But maybe sharing would help lift some of whatever I was carrying around and would stop me from barking at her. “I guess.”
“You’d never do that to someone.” There was so much conviction in her words, I wanted to believe her. It was like the stories Henri told about her grandmother, who saw the best in people who didn’t deserve it.
“My mother was pretty sure my father wouldn’t, either.” Yup, I stared at the wall. “After every single beating, she was still surethat onewas the last one.”
She put her hand over mine. Again and again, our hands found each other, as if there were gravity between them. The contact shouldn’t have meant anything. It was skin touching skin. Nothing more than when I’d shaken Henri’s hand before we left his compartment.
But my heart insisted this was different. I covered her hand with my other one, sandwiching it between mine as though her touch might disappear. “My protection details are never like this one.”
Taking care of her is the most important thing. Remember that.
Grace turned to face me. She was right there, close enough I could feel her breath on my cheek. Last night, she’d kissed me. The brush of her lips against my cheek had obviously been meant as a comfort, but had turned into something else entirely. Part of me wanted her to do it again. Wanted to feel her mouth on mine and know she’d chosen it with only one glass of wine in her.
But she just sat there, a solid presence.
I waited for the voices to come over me. The ones that normally told me I hadn’t been strong enough to protect my mother, that I was too like my father, or that Carissa had been right to screw around on me because I wasn’t whatever she thought she needed. But they didn’t come.
What power did this woman have that touching her meant silence inside my head?
A distant voice whispered, ‘Don’t.’
But then Grace whispered, “Life’s too short to beat yourself up for someone else’s sins.”
It wasn’t about someone else. It was aboutmysins,myshortcomings, and every way I’d failed the people I’d loved or tried to love.
Or was it?
I turned to look at her, at those big green eyes that held no fear, and the only voice left in my head said,‘Kiss her.’
She moistened her lips, as though she’d heard the voice, too.
I let go of her hand and threaded my fingers into her damp hair, cupping the back of her head. “I’m going to kiss you now.”
Her eyes widened, and she said, “I’d like that.”
I leaned in, sealed my mouth over hers, and probed with my tongue. Hers joined mine, and the world vanished. She gripped my shoulder, then the back of my neck, pulling me closer, and I went willingly. She tasted like mint toothpaste again, and I felt her smiling in her kiss.
We shifted without breaking apart—I pulled her onto my lap, and her legs spread so she straddled me. My hands found her waist, then her hips, then her ass, pulling her flush against me. She was soft andright, and I was hard, my cock straining underneath her.
Grace.
Her fingers curled into my hair, and she rolled her hips, grinding against me.
