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“But how do you know? What if—”
“No, Lark.” My voice was firm, like my certainty. “They were torn apart. It wouldn’t have mattered how fast the paramedics got there. There was no saving them.”
She didn’t look convinced. “Sometimes,” she whispered, her voice so soft I barely heard it, “I wish I would’ve died that night, too. It would’ve been easier.”
It felt like she’d reached right into my chest and tore out my heart. My hands tightened around her face. “Don’t you ever think that,” I growled. “You survived a monster, Lark. I thank God every day that you lived.”
She froze, and I swiped away her tears with my thumbs.
“I’m so sorry you lost Thea,” she murmured.
“I’m sorry you lost her, too.” I let out an even breath, leaning my forehead against hers. “Sometimes, when things got really dark in my head, the only thing that kept me from drowning in that darkness was the fact that you were still alive. Your life is damn light, Lark, and I don’t ever want you to forget that.”
She let out a small gasp, her eyes rounded and focused on mine. Even through tears, those brown eyes were so beautiful.
After a long pause, her lips parted. “Reid?” she whispered, my name sounding like a question.
“Yeah?”
She pulled back slightly, still close enough to taste, but our foreheads weren’t touching anymore. My brows knit together as she stared at me. Then, her eyes bounced to my mouth. My stomach tightened at the sudden shift in her expression.
And then she moved.
Lark pressed her mouth against mine, tentatively at first, as if she wasn’t sure she should be doing what she was doing. But in that moment, all my sadness and uncertainty and rationality disappeared from my brain. Nothing existed but Lark. Her lips moved, soft and slow against mine, and I almost lost it.
With an aching amount of control, I slid my hand up her jaw and toward the back of her neck. My fingers tangled in her hair as I opened my mouth and she reciprocated, almost undoing me. She tasted like sweet honey and salty tears, and I wanted to drink her in.
My mouth moved faster. Her hands moved up my neck and fisted in my hair, pulling gently on the strands and sending pleasant chills down my spine. Heat pooled low in my core as our tongues met, exploring and tasting. She was perfect, soft and succulent, and I never wanted to stop kissing her just like this.
But someone cleared their throat loudly from behind us. Lark gasped, pulling away from me. Her eyes shifted to someone behind me.
We were both panting, flushed and red-faced. Another loud cough, and I forced myself to look over my shoulder.
Winnie Meadows stood in the kitchen, two hands on her hips as she stared at me like she wanted to kick me in the balls.
22
Reid
“Mom.” Lark sounded like a strangled cat. “I thought you were sleeping.”
Lark was basically sitting on my lap as we sat on the floor of the breakfast nook. My arms were around her, but she pulled back, untangling herself from me and standing up.
“I was,” Winnie answered, her voice clipped and annoyed. “But something woke me up.”
Great. Leveling Winnie with the same sour expression she gave me, I dragged myself to my feet.
Lark crossed her arm over her chest, staring at the floor.
“I’m sorry you were woken,” I said, with forced calm.
Winnie narrowed her eyes. “It’s late. You should probably get going home.”
My jaw worked as my back teeth ground together. It wasn’t that late, not even ten yet, but this was her house. I glanced at Lark. She didn’t meet my eye. Something…unsettling hit me, making my stomach twist in a tight knot. It wasn’t quite regret, but as the fog of that kiss dissipated, I wondered whether Lark regretted it.
Had I made a mistake?
My hands fisted at my sides, my eyes flicking back to Winnie.
