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Seth
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Текст книги "Seth"


Автор книги: Jo Raven



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Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 16 страниц)

Chapter Fifteen

Seth

She kisses me. I don’t know why her eyes seem wet, or why she clutches me like I’m about to vanish into smoke. She doesn’t know my past, has barely scratched the surface. Fuck, if she knew…

So I kiss her back, needing the distraction, needing to forget myself in her sweet taste, her hot body. The body of the one girl I’ve ever truly wanted, and my dick hardens more when she presses her tits to my chest and her hands to my shoulders.

Oh yeah, baby. More.

I nip at her lower lip and try to decide how to do this. With her sitting like this, in my lap? Lay her down on the sofa like last night? Have her on all fours so I can play with other parts of her? Bend her over the sofa?

Shit, I have to bury myself in her, feel her around me. After tearing at the scabs in my mind, leaving each memory raw and bleeding, I need her.

Gotta lose myself in her. Can’t bear being inside my mind right now, but she shoves me back. Fuck. What if she doesn’t want it? What if last night wasn’t as great for her as it was for me?

Son of a bitch.

“Lie back,” she says breathlessly and shoves me again, a little poke on my pecs.

Her tits sway in front of me, dark nipples taut and tempting, as I let her push me onto my back. I don’t know what’s on her mind, but her soft mouth pulls into a pleased little smile and something softens in my chest, some hard shell I forgot was there.

Then her hand trails over my dick, and the thought fizzles out. Heat races to the root of my cock, enveloping my tight balls, and my hips jerk up, pushing into her grip.

“Fuck, I wanted…” I have to stop for breath as she slides her small fist up and down, shooting sparks of pleasure into my belly. “Wanted to be inside you when I come. Feel you coming around me.”

Her eyes widen at my words, and then darken. She leans over me, her hard nipples teasing my chest. My hard-on slides against the softness of her belly, leaving wet trails, the pleasure condensing into a hard ball of need in my gut.

“Show me,” she whispers, her lashes like black lace on her pale cheeks. “I want to know.”

“Know what?”

She sits back on her heels, sliding her hand over my chest, down to my straining cock. “How to pleasure you.”

“What…?” I can’t take my eyes off her hand. Her hand on my dick, stroking up and down. “You’re doing it. Fuck…”

The muscles in my stomach are already clenching, the pressure building behind my balls.

“I want to taste you,” she clarifies, although my brain has some trouble making sense of words right now. “Go down on you.”

“Fuck, yeah...” The blood is too hot in my veins, my muscles locked up and trembling with my effort not to shoot my load right here and now. My cock jerks, leaks. I’m so turned on I’m about to explode all over her pretty tits. “Just put your mouth on it, lick it, suck it… Play with it. It’s all yours, babe.”

My dick, my body, my mind. My goddamn soul.

Uncertainty flickers over her heart-shaped face, those dark-green eyes, and fuck, she’ll bolt. She may be brave in many things, but this is an area that makes her damn nervous, and although I love how she wants to try, I don’t want her doing it if she’s not comfortable.

“It’s okay,” I tell her. “You don’t have to do this.”

My cock twitches sorrowfully, weeping in her hand.

Yeah, boy. I know. You and me both.

“I said I want to taste you,” she says, her voice low and husky, and oh Christ, she’s killing me. “Very much. I’ve been thinking about it.” She looks away, her nipples bunching up more. “You’re so hot.”

Oh fucking hell.

Words turn me on. Voices turn me on. Maybe that’s why I always tell the girl I’m with what I’ll do to her, what she’s doing to me. But this girl… She does it for me every time, in every way.

I mean, hell, she thinks I’m hot. Plus, she wants to know what I taste like. It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard.

So excuse me while I reach for my cock and squeeze it hard to keep from coming on the spot. I grit my teeth, chew on the inside of my cheek. As it is, my cock jerks once, about to go off, and precum leaks from the small slit and over my fingers, coating my hand.

Her hand closes over mine, tugs. She slides over me like water, between my legs, her silky hair draping over my thighs, and then her mouth is on my cock, her lips around the head, hot and tight.

I try to speak, but all the blood’s rushing to my junk, leaving me lightheaded and stupid. An inarticulate sound leaves my throat when she takes me in deeper. Fuck, this is off the charts. Having my dick sucked isn’t new to me—hell, on the street it was the one thing I could count on when I was with a chick, as anything else required more privacy—but this… Manon giving me head is, fuck, it’s mind-blowing.

Because she’s the one I want, the one I’m set on.

Dammit, Seffers, don’t fucking go there.

Not again. Not now, not when her tongue swirls under the head, pressing against the vein beating there, making me arch right off the sofa.

Fuck, that’s so damn good. I lift my arms over my head, grip the armrest as I fight not to drive my cock deeper into her sweet mouth. A groan is building deep in my chest. Fire burns, spreading through my dick. This will go down as the quickest blowjob in history.

Only, she pulls back, letting the head of my cock pop out of her lips.

Shit. My hips lift, my dick seeking in vain the heat and pressure, and the air on the wet crown is cool.

“Manon…” Her name comes out strangled. I’ll fucking beg if I have to. I need to come. She really is trying to kill me. “Goddammit.”

“Does it feel good?” she asks, and I nod frantically, not sure I can speak.

“Yes,” I force the word out, because she seems to be willing to wait. “Yes.”

“I’m doing it right?”

“Yeah.” I finally notice how unsure she looks. “Perfect. You are so perfect, so sexy.” I want her to know that. “If you put your hot mouth on me again, baby, I’m gonna come like a firework. Fair warning.”

The uncertainty lifts from her gaze, and she smiles—a smile full of happiness. Not expecting it, I’m struck speechless by its beauty.

“Good. I want you to feel good. Wish I could take away all that hurts you, too, but this will do for now.”

And before I have the time to process what she’s telling me, make sense of it, she swallows me again, so deep there’s no way to stop the orgasm from slamming into me. I can’t even warn her as my balls lift and my dick jerks, pouring my cum into her mouth. I cry out, the first wave tearing through me like a gale, my whole body shaking with the goddamn force of it.

The second wave hits, wrenching a moan from deep inside me, the pleasure rolling me under, darkening my vision. I’m vaguely aware the heat around my cock vanishes, the cool air almost too much. Something warm closes around the base, though, and it’s enough to make me jerk again and splash another load of jizz on my chest.

I blink up at her dizzily. She’s wiping a trail of cum running down her chin. Shit. I lift my hand to cup her cheek, but before I ask if she’s okay, she smiles again.

God, that smile will be my undoing.

“Gimme a minute,” I mutter, trying to catch my breath, and fumble by the side of the sofa for my already dirty T-shirt to wipe my chest clean. “Then I’ll take care of you.”

“’S okay,” she whispers and retrieves the T-shirt for me, licks her lips as I swipe at the mess. “I’m not going anywhere.”

I freeze, soiled T-shirt bunched up in my fist, my brain hearing something else, something she hasn’t said or meant.

Christ.

I force myself to finish what I’m doing, break through my daze. Of course she’s not staying. She’s only talking about today.

When will I fucking learn?

***

She pulls me out of the apartment before I have a chance to make good on my promise. A promise I was looking forward to fulfilling—because, damn, the girl is driving me nuts. Her scent, her taste, her eyes, her mouth, her body, it all speaks to me, turns me on like nothing else.

But she wants to walk outside, she says, chattering about the sunlight and the fact it’s a Sunday, and although my knee aches, I grab my jacket and my walking stick, and follow her.

’Cuz that’s another thing I promised: to show her what it’s like when two people wanna be together.

So I lie when she asks if I’m okay, if my leg hurts. The handle of my stick clutched in one hand, I slip an arm around her slim waist. I gather her close as we cross the street and a cold breeze hits us. We’re not dressed for the cold spell, my jacket and her coat light, but with her face turned to the sun, she doesn’t seem to care.

I don’t, either. She’d have proposed we go swim with piranhas, or go rock climbing with our hands tied, and I’d still go.

Yeah, I know. Bad idea, this whole thing, and getting worse by the minute.

And no, I don’t wanna fucking talk about it. This is more than I’ve ever dared imagine I could have with her. I’ll take it. Ignore the alarms echoing in my skull. Ignore everything but the feel of her in my arms.

She pulls me to an ice cream stand, we get our cones, and we continue walking.

“Chocolate mint,” I say, staring as she licks the green scoop like she did my dick earlier this morning, and damn if I’m not hard again. “Noted.”

“And salty caramel and mango for you.” She winks at me with those cool eyes of hers, greener than the ice cream she’s making love to. “Noted, too.”

“This what you like doing on Sundays?”

“Used to. With my parents, then my dad only, when my mom split.”

“Oh. So why are we doing it?”

She shrugs, smiles. “To redo the memory?”

“That makes sense.” I smile back.

“I like you, Seth,” she says, and I won’t read anything into her words. Anything at all.

My mouth is numb from the ice cream, my legs frozen through my thin pants, but I’m still smiling as we walk into a small park and sit on a bench.

I prop the walking stick beside me. The sunlight is weak, but it still feels good on my face. With my belly full, and my girl at my side, I’ve got all I need.

“Did you like it in France?” I ask as she snuggles close to me. I bend over to lick the sugary goodness left by the ice cream from her lips. “When you visited your mom? Is it like here?”

“It’s different.”

“Different how?” I’m drowsy and happy. Shit, I’m happy. Can’t stop grinning. “Better or worse?”

“Don’t know. Smaller? It’s a small town, where mom lives. Very pretty, and old. Aix-en-Provence. The place of many fountains.”

“Really? So you have fountains on every corner?”

She laughs. “Almost. And street markets, parks, old houses with sloped roofs and flowers on the window sills.”

“Sounds like Disneyland.”

She slaps at my chest, but not really hard. “Nothing to do with Disneyland.”

I shrug. Not like I’ve ever been to either place. “And the people?”

“Sort of snobbish, most of the time. But nice, too.”

“What, both?”

“Yeah. They aren’t as open as we are. But once you get to know them, they can be really friendly.”

“Can be? Not good enough. Glad you didn’t stay there.”

“I’m glad, too. Though I miss her, you know? But not as much as I thought before going there. I realized… I don’t really know her anymore. Sure, I’ve seen her on Skype from time to time since she left, and she visited me twice, but it was a while ago, and seeing her again… Felt weird. Like I was disconnected from her. Like she’s not my mom anymore. She’s a stranger.”

“Yeah. But at least she called you, visited you. I mean, shit, that has to count for something, right? Like, she cares.”

“Maybe. Not sure it’s enough, though.”

Right.

I’m not sure I’m the best person to give opinions on mothers. Mine was a stranger since the day I was born, and still I tried to draw love from her. It was like trying to draw blood from a corpse. Didn’t see that when I was younger, though. I thought I could convince her I was worth loving. Worth protecting. That I was one of her own and she should do something to save me, like other mothers I knew did.

Like Shane’s mom did.

But it didn’t work. Put me behind bars, in fact, and that was the moment when my inner vision cleared, and I realized she’d never change. I’d never be good enough. I was only good as a currency—a bartering item. I’d go to prison so she and her newly acquired husband could escape the clutches of the law and party away.

That’s what kept spinning in my mind as I lay in my cell, as I waited for the dreaded steps of the guard who liked to kick me around, stuff a dirty cloth in my mouth and punch me until he got tired. Who liked to spill my food on the floor and make me lick it. Pour the water on me and watch me shiver with cold, grinning like a shark. Who enjoyed throwing me into solitary and forget about me for a day or two, until I begged him to take me out.

That was almost as bad as the beatings I regularly took from the prisoners in the cell across from mine for being part Native. Or part darker skin and black hair, whatever, I doubt they knew or cared what makes up my DNA.

Could have been worse. Could’ve been raped. I wouldn’t have been the first or the last. Guess I’m not pretty enough for that.

Thank fucking God.

I could take all that. I did take it. What burned was that my own mom set me up. She set me up and took off, and didn’t even care enough to check on me. I was seventeen. By Wisconsin law, I was an adult. Been in and out of juvie so many times the judge took one look at my record and condemned me.

After a while I stopped waiting for my mom to come and confess, tell them I wasn’t the one who should be behind bars. Tell them the truth. And still my mind refused to accept reality and I decided something must have happened to her. She had to be lying dead in a ditch somewhere, because otherwise why the fuck wouldn’t she—?

“Seth. Hey.” Light pressure on my cheek. A hand.

I blink and my vision clears. I see Manon’s small face looking up at me. She looks… concerned.

“Hey yourself,” I rasp, my voice kinda hoarse, and I don’t know the fuck why.

“You seemed lost in thought. Not a pleasant thought, either.”

“Just remembering some stuff. Not important.”

“You can talk to me.” Her hand is still on my cheek, and the look in her eyes makes everything inside my chest go tight and hot.

Dammit, Seffers. Back up. Regroup.

“Sure.” I turn my face and kiss her palm, making her shiver. “Let’s talk about how I’m gonna find a quiet spot somewhere and push you up against a wall, shove that little skirt up your legs and my hand into your panties. Then,” she lowers her hand and I lean so I speak directly into the fine shell of her ear, “I’m gonna fuck you with my fingers until you come, stop your cries with my mouth. And then I’m gonna replace my fingers with my cock and fuck you again, harder, faster. Make you scream.”

I pull back, and fuck, maybe I’ve scared her now, what with growling shit like that in her ear like some crazy bastard.

But the look in her wide eyes isn’t fear. She licks her lips, and I swallow in response.

“Not playing fair,” she complains breathlessly, and shit, now I’m getting hard, too.

“Never said I was.”

Been on and off the street since I was a kid, in and out of juvie, in prison, and then back on the street. Playing fair would have been the death of me. Besides, nothing’s fair in love and war.

Or so I hear.

She’s silent, looking at me as if she can read something on my face I didn’t know was there. Her fingertips trail down to my jaw, to my neck, so unbearably gentle. I wrack my mind for something to say, something witty, something funny to break the tension.

“Do you like the zoo?” she asks, and I blink.

Must have missed something she said earlier, right? Were we talking about that?

“The zoo?” I repeat.

Brain’s frozen. Sorry.

“Do you like going there? Like, when you were little?”

Er. “Never been there.”

“That’s not possible. Every kid I know has been to the zoo. The Henry Vilas Zoo. I mean it’s not far, and…” She trails off. “You never went.”

That’s right, I never went. I was stealing, so I could buy food to eat when other kids went to the zoo and to the parks and to the damn movies. Stealing to survive, and my mom and her boyfriends took the money from me to buy themselves booze and drugs.

Shit, what’s wrong with me today? Why can’t I get out of the past? It keeps sucking me down, like a sinkhole.

She’s still staring at me, frowning. Doing that thing again, where she’s reading my expression like an open book.

Never been an open book to anyone, dammit. Worked hard on putting a lid on what I feel, what I can show to the world. And she’s seeing right through it.

“Well, then.” Her hand presses on my chest, over my racing heart. “How about going today? Would you like that?”

Go to the zoo. I open my mouth, close it, unsure of the words.

It’s not like I’m burning to go. Not anymore, anyway. Sure, there was a time I’d have given anything to go. Entry is free for the public, and once I tried getting in. Rode black in a bus from the northern suburbs, stood at the entrance, tried to explain to the lady at the door my mom was coming later to join me.

A lie, of course, and the lady realized. Hard not to tell. I was filthy and feral. She told me to come again later with my mom, as they couldn’t let inside kids unattended.

I’d been unattended all my life.

“Come on.” Manon gets up and tugs on my hand. “We’ll get my car. It’s parked just around the corner from your apartment.”

Using the backrest of the bench as support, grabbing my walking stick, I push to my feet, testing my bum knee. Still holding.

My mind is sorta reeling, though. I thought I was the one behind the wheel in this crazy little stunt. I was the one supposed to be showing her what it’s like to be with someone, to care for someone.

But as it turns out, I know shit, and she’s the one showing me.

The fall from grace will be a hell of a lot steeper than I thought, and goddammit… I’m not sure anymore that I’ll survive.

Chapter Sixteen

Manon

I grew up in Madison. It was much later, when I was a teenager, that Dad and I moved to Detroit because of his job.

So I’ve been to the zoo here lots of times. Mostly when I was a kid. Can’t remember going with my mom before she left, but afterward my dad often took me there Sundays.

We usually spent Sundays outdoors as much as possible—out of town, or in parks—and if not, then at the movie theater at children’s matinees, the Children’s’ Museum, or one of the indoor playgrounds such as Play N Wisconsin and the Ultrazone.

I want to ask, but I somehow already know Seth hasn’t been to any of those places. The more I know about his past, the closer I feel, and the more my heart aches for him.

It’s a strange feeling, a strange state. When he’s around me, when he’s looking at me, I get all hot and excited. And when he gets so sad and brooding, I get worried and anxious to see him smiling again.

Never felt that way with Fred, or anyone else. Not sure what it means. If it means anything at all. I mean, he’s not opening up to me. Not voluntarily. Whatever he has admitted to has obviously escaped him against his will. He doesn’t want to tell me about the things that hurt him. Doesn’t want my pity, I guess.

I don’t pity him. I’m in a bit of awe of him, for having survived such a crappy childhood. But I don’t know how to tell him that.

So I don’t. I drive to the zoo, his presence filling my small blue Kia Rio, a gift from my dad on my fifteenth birthday. With his broad shoulders and big frame, Seth looks like an adult in a child’s toy car. It would have been funny, but he’s too handsome for that, so it’s just cute.

And besides, he’s still silent, his eyes sad, and it makes me wish I knew what to say to lift this dark veil from his thoughts. I wonder what else he hasn’t told me, what other wounds he’s hiding. I may not see them, but I sense them, under the surface of the brave and careless front he puts on for others, like thorns under the skin.

He stirs when I park the car, gives the colorful sign at the entrance a doubtful look as I reach behind my seat for my purse and jacket. The sun is still fitfully shining, but the days are getting colder and colder in preparation for winter.

“Wait until you see the polar bears,” I tell him, a bit worried when I realize his jacket looks thin and summery. “And the camels.”

He turns to me, dark brows drawing together. “Camels?”

“Yes. Rhinoceroses, giraffes, tigers, lions. Snakes.”

His eyes brighten. “Boas?”

“Definitely boas. And anacondas.”

He’s grinning now, and if possible, my heart constricts even more. God, he’s heartbreakingly beautiful, especially when he smiles. Wish he could smile all the time.

Wish I could make it happen.

But we hardly know each other, and we’re playing a strange game of pretend, confusing as heck, so I open my door and get out, waiting for him to follow.

***

At first, I think I’ve made a mistake insisting we come here. As we walk around, he doesn’t react at the animals we see, his expression closed off, locked down.

The lions and tigers don’t seem to impress him, or even the funny prairie dogs and lemurs. Leaning on his walking stick, he splays one hand on the chain-link fence, gripping the wire, saying nothing.

Not sure what to do, I tug on his arm. There’s the arctic passage, newly reopened. Haven’t been there since it was redone. Time to go see the seals and polar bears. Maybe that will cheer him up.

Kids are running everywhere, squealing in delight, haggard parents running after them. Seth is watching them from the corner of his eye, hands shoved in his pockets, shoulders slightly hunched.

Crap. I try to see this place through his eyes—a kid who hasn’t had a real childhood, carefree and fun like I did, and wince. It has to look so unfair to him, seeing these children having a blast.

But he never struck me as a bitter person. So maybe I’m all wrong again and this isn’t what he’s thinking. He doesn’t bitch and moan about his life, and I respect his strength.

So what’s on his mind?

We walk indoors, the thumps of his stick echoing, to see the bears and seals frolic, submerged in water, behind thick panes of glass. A baby seal does a whole funny little dance for us underwater, flippers waving.

Seth stands stone-still, eyes wide. Good or bad sign? Not sure, but I tug on his elbow, and he grudgingly takes a step closer to the glass.

The seal flips over, somersaulting in the water, as if putting on a private show for us, and I giggle, unable to help myself. It’s such a cute little thing.

He shifts, takes his other hand out of his pocket, reaches for the seal. He swallows hard. His hand lands on the glass and he bends closer as the seal twists and wiggles.

Then he pulls back, turns around and heads out.

Whoa.

I run after him, and jeez, even with a limp he’s so much faster than me. Remorse hits me as I catch up with him outside. He’s leaning against a tree, head tilted back, his stick lying in the grass. His knee must be bothering him and I made him walk a lot today.

“Why don’t we go sit for a while?” I gesture in the direction of a bench I can see. “Then we could—”

“I’m leaving.” He works his jaw, won’t meet my gaze. “Don’t care about the stupid animals. Fuck them.”

I gape at him, heat pouring through my chest. Anger warms me up better than any coat. “Fine. I’ll drive you back.”

“I’ll take the bus.” He pushes off the tree, wincing as he straightens. “I’ll be fine.”

“I’m sure you’ll be.” I fold my arms over my breasts, willing the hot tears in my eyes not to fall. “My fault for bringing you here, where you obviously don’t want to be.”

His mouth tightens. He ducks his head. “I can’t stay, Manon. Sorry.”

“What for? I wanted you to have fun, but since the stupid animals bore you, then by all means, go.”

I expect him to do precisely that, but he doesn’t move.

“Dammit,” he whispers. A small vein ticks in his jaw, and his eyes seem very bright over his flushed cheekbones. “I always fuck everything up.”

“That’s not true,” I breathe, some of my anger leaving me. I really have no clue what’s the matter with him, but I have a feeling he’s trying to work something out. I wish I knew what it is.

“It is true.”

“Look, it’s okay if you don’t want to stay. Then again…” I turn, point at a sign. “The snakes are right there, at the end of this path. You could have a look before you go.”

He follows the direction my finger is pointing. He licks his lips. His hands clench and unclench at his sides.

It takes an eternity before he nods, a tight dip of his chin, and holds out a hand for me.

Okay. I let out a breath and slip my hand against his palm, bend down to retrieve his stick and put it in his other hand.

Let’s see where this takes us.

First it takes us to the snakes, of course. The Herpetarium. It’s warm inside the dimly-lit space with its glass cases, and I tighten my hold on Seth’s hand.

“Afraid?” he whispers, and I jump.

“No, of course not,” I scoff, then step closer to him, biting my lip. “Okay, maybe just a tiny bit?”

“Of snakes?”

“Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you say so before?”

“Because even though I’m scared, I want to see the snakes. They’re beautiful, and move like dancers.”

He chuckles low, and I smile, despite our fight. Which wasn’t really a fight. Shaking my head, I walk with him along the cases.

He stops in front of the boa constrictor and lets go of me, turning his full attention on the animal. It’s huge, half-curled around a branch, its skin light brown with dark diamond patterns. Its forked tongue flicks out.

I shiver.

Seth presses a hand to the glass, and I jerk a little, an abortive attempt to pull him away from danger.

There’s no danger, I tell myself. The animals are inside cages and boxes.

He keeps doing that, putting his hands as close to the animals as possible. Thank God for barriers. I’m not sure he wouldn’t have tried it without the glass between him and the snake.

“Fuck me…” he mutters, and the awe in his voice is worth the uncertainty and panic. “This thing’s badass.”

“Yeah, it’s big,” I say, my voice small.

“They eat rodents and birds, and they give birth to babies, not eggs.” He taps his fingertips on the glass and the boa stares at him with a beady eye. “They’re so strong. They just grab their prey and wrap around it until it dies.”

“Jesus. Right.” I know all this, so why am I shivering again?

He glances at me and frowns. He pulls me against his side, slings a heavy arm over my shoulders. “You okay?”

I wrap my arm around his slim hips and smile up at him. “Why do you like the boas so much?”

He shrugs. “I… I wanted to be a herpetologist. I just love snakes, they’re so strong. Ancient creatures. Survivors. I wanted to study them. Christ, I just wanted… Fuck.” He pulls away from me, turns his back, draws an uneven breath.

And then another, and another, a tremor going through his shoulders.

“Seth?”

Jesus, what have I done?

He shakes his head, starts for the exit, and I hurry after him, grabbing his hand. He doesn’t let go, or push me away, and we walk out into the watery sunlight. He keeps going, stumbling, until we reach the relative privacy of a tree shade.

He releases my hand and turns away, leaning on his stick. “Gimme a minute.”

“What happened?” My heart’s in my throat. “What can I do?”

“Nothing. Fuck, I didn’t want to remember.”

“Remember what?” I walk around him until I face him again. “Remember what, Seth?”

Christ, his cheeks are wet. He’s just standing there, clutching his stick, tears tracking down his face, and it’s as if he can’t feel them.

“Remember everything I used to want,” he breathes. “All I can’t have.”

When I wrap my arms around him, he doesn’t resist. His stick clatters to the ground, and he does nothing for a long while, letting me hold him.

“Didn’t mean to hurt you,” I whisper against his shoulder, close to crying myself. “Only wanted to make you happy.”

“I’m fine,” he says, although his voice catches. He finally lifts his arms and hugs me back. “I promise, I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.” I cling to him. “My fault.”

“Manon,” he whispers my name, low and soft, like a prayer. Then he draws back and kisses me—salty with sorrow and sweet. Sweet and filled with a promise I can’t decipher.

***

A light drizzle has begun. The sky is weeping.

I keep stealing glances at him as we make our way through the park, heading to the exit. My lips tingle from his kiss—hard and hot and all too brief. He says he’s fine, but the tears drying on his face and the pain in his voice when he told me why tell another story.

What a disaster.

Stop it, I tell myself. Okay, so I can’t quite tell if my idea of coming to the zoo was a fiasco or not. Can’t tell if his tears were only sad, or also happy. But in any case, I broke through some barrier he’d erected around him. Learned more about him in a couple of hours than I had in the past weeks.

Not that he likes snakes, or that he wanted to be a herpetologist. Not only that. He feels and keeps the emotions trapped inside. He has dreams, but he’s buried them deep. I don’t think he’s the kind of person to bare himself to others. He hides. Tries to be strong, but he’s cracked inside.

What the wound was… I can guess from the things he told me: his junkie mother and her abusive boyfriends. Stealing to survive when he was little. Having a brief stint at happiness with his cousin’s family, and then losing that, too. Thinking his mother was dead, when in fact she’d abandoned him.

That’s enough to break even the strongest.

His childhood was so different to mine, maybe I should be running the other way. How could he understand me, and how could I understand him when our backgrounds have no middle ground?

And yet… I’ve never felt as comfortable in my skin as I have with him. So happy.

The thought sends a shiver through me.

It’s the cold, I tell myself, because meanwhile the drizzle has turned into rain. Somewhere above, thunder booms and the wind picks up.

The clouds burst open, pouring a sea of ice-cold water down on us.

“Shit,” Seth mutters and grabs my hand. Half-limping, half-running, he leads me out of the zoo, past the parked cars, searching for mine. “Where the fuck are we parked?”

People are overtaking us, running, unprepared for the sudden storm. The spatter of the rain drowns out other sounds, so they seem like ghosts, fleeing past.

“There!” I point out my blue Kia Rio through the downpour, and we hurry that way. Cold water is running through my collar down my back and front, soaking my dress. “Quick.”


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