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A large hand cradled my wrist with exquisite gentleness.
I stared numbly at it as Elden raised my wrist to his mouth, laying a featherlight kiss on the inflamed skin.
The lump disappeared. My eyes stopped burning.
My eyes found his.
We stayed there an impossibly long amount of time, staring at each other, not saying a word.
I wasn’t sure what to say. There was too much to say. I worried that whatever I said would ruin this moment, would bring reality hurtling in.
“I have an assignment due at midnight,” I blurted.
Oh my god.
Of all the fucking things I could’ve said,thatwas what I chose.
I could’ve told him I hadn’t stopped thinking about him. About the way he’d kissed me on the rooftop. How I made myself come thinking of his mouth on me. How I dreamed of him.
But no.
I talked about an assignment. Something that would remind him of my age, that I was in college. That I was just a kid. Just a kid who was his responsibility to save because my stepfather’s club did that kind of thing.
His thumb stroked my wrist. It was no longer throbbing.
“Okay, baby,” he murmured against my skin, inhaling for a second before letting it go.
My heart fell.
He was going to leave.
And when he left, I’d have nothing to think about but my throbbing wrist, my growing bruise, my father’s tone, that alien look in his eye.
Unable to move, I watched him walk away, willing myself to find the courage to ask him to stay, beg him if need be.
But he didn’t walk toward the front door. Instead, he moved into the kitchen.
I watched him open the fridge, inspect the contents … which was likely a lot of booze, condiments, an assortment of nut milks, kombucha and not much else. Sariah did a detailed grocery shop and organized the fridge—she called it ‘cultivating’—meticulously, but she was also on a deadline for an assignment, so she had been living at the library.
I stood rooted in my spot and watched Elden close the door with one hand, the other holding a carton of eggs, cheese and some vegetables.
“What are you doing?” I managed to ask.
He looked up. “Gonna make you somethin’ to eat, gonna make sure you eat it, then I’ll find somethin’ to read,” he nodded to our color-coded bookshelves, “while you finish your assignment.”
I just stood there, digesting the information. “You’re not going to leave me,” I surmised.
Something shone in his eyes that I couldn’t decipher. “No, Violet,” he rumbled. “I’m not going to leave you.”
My entire body relaxed. I was able to take a deep breath.
He watched me for a few more moments. “Baby, your assignment,” he said softly.
I jerked back into reality. “Right,” I whispered. “My assignment.”
It was an important assignment too. Worth 20 percent of my final grade. And my teacher was a hard-ass. I respected her, though because she was almost impossible to please.
Still, I didn’t move.
