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22
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“What do you want to do today?”
“Well, I’m not working, so anything?”
An hour later, we get out of bed. We head into the shower together. When the hot water hits our bodies, I’m overwhelmed with the scent of her, of us. I love the smell of her, but the two of us mixed together is even better.
I grab the towel and dry her off gently when we’re done. She does the same to me. Then we stand side by side, wrapped in our towels, combing our hair as the air dryer runs to suck the moisture off our bodies and out of the bathroom. My own hair is a mess of knots, and I yank at it with no mercy, but my gaze keeps drifting to her.
I’m about to reach for her towel and yank it off, not so gently, when she turns to me.
“Have you ever had brunch at Skysight?”
“You’re hungry?”
“Aren’t you?”
Yes, but not for food. As we get dressed, I make an attempt to grab her and force her back into the bed. She resists, and I let her go.
“It’s not that I don’t want to, but we have to eat, especially you with all the training you’ve been doing.”
“I just want to stay here with you forever. Is that wrong?”
“It’s not wrong.” She plants a soft kiss on my cheek. “It’s just not practical.”
“I don’t want the outside world to interfere with what we have.”
If I can just keep her all to myself, everything will be fine, I know it will. Who needs practicality? What we have is special, important. I want to protect it.
She untangles herself from my embrace and starts getting dressed. After my favorite parts of her are completely obscured by clothing, I do the same.
When we step outside, the sun is bright. Instinctively, we let go of each other’s hand, shading our eyes instead.
“See, it’s better back in there.” I look back over my shoulder. There is a small amount of reproach in my voice.
“Hey.”
I look at her. Now that my eyes have adjusted to the light, I can’t help but appreciate how beautiful she looks outside. The brightness makes everything seem slightly washed out except for her. Her hair is as black as ever. Her eyes are sparkling. Her skin seems to absorb the sun’s warmth and radiate it back out. She’s the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen.
She grabs my hand, and we start walking down the street. We don’t say a word. We don’t need to. Blissfulness envelopes me but when we are seated at the same table we had dinner with my parents in, doubt begins to seep into the edges of my mind.
“What are you thinking?”
Before I can answer, the waiter comes over. I send him a silent thank you for saving me. Hopefully she’ll forget she asked the question. I could just lie, but even thinking about speaking a falsehood to her makes my stomach feel like it’s loaded withsharp spikes. And even the slightest move would pierce me, causing unbearable pain.
This is what being fated means,I realize. And though I don’t ever want to let her go, I can’t help the panic that rises in my chest. I stuff it down, telling myself this will get easier.
It has to. She’s my fated mate.
“We sat here with your parents the other night.”
“I remember.”
“Parents are the most important relationship a child has. It’s how you learn about relationships, don’t you think?”
I look at her. Her eyes look glassy, like she’s holding back tears. She grabs a napkin and carefully dabs at them.
