Tales of the Otherworld (23 page)

She stopped fidgeting. “My shoes?”

“The ones you left in the parking lot at my building. Beside the trash bin.”

“How’d you know they were mine?”

“They aren’t? I thought— They weren’t there when I left, and they were there when I got back, and I just figured…Well, if they aren’t yours, I’ll put them back.”

“They’re mine. New shoes. They were pinching my feet, so I took them off by the bin. I guess I was distracted and just left them there.”

Her gaze shifted from mine, confirming what I already knew, that she’d thrown them away, probably as hard as she could, like she’d whipped the keys across my apartment.

If I hadn’t smelled her scent on the shoes, I’d never have guessed they were hers. They didn’t look like anything Elena wore, which had made my mind flip back to the scent lingering in my apartment, the one I’d been too busy to notice when she’d first come in: the smell of soap and shampoo, with the faintest touch of perfume. There was no reason for Elena to shower before coming over with a takeout dinner, and certainly no reason to wear new perfume and new dress shoes…which told me I’d made a bigger mistake than I’d thought.

“You had something planned,” I said. “For tonight. Something special.”

A shrug. “I knew you were worried about the presentation and, now that it’s over, I wanted to…I don’t know, celebrate, kick back and relax, something. But when you plan a surprise, you take a risk. The other person might have different plans. I accept that.” She looked up, her gaze meeting mine. “What I don’t accept is how you reacted.”

“I—”

“I asked if I could bring over dinner, and you said yes, so you knew I was coming. I didn’t barge into your apartment without warning. I
knocked. You’ve told me a hundred times just to use my keys and come in. I didn’t ask for keys. I wasn’t even sure I wanted them. But you insisted so I could use the apartment to study when you’re not there. It was your idea, not mine.”

Logan had exploded when he’d found out I’d given Elena keys to my apartment, but I knew what I was doing. There was nothing in there that Elena couldn’t see. I had to keep one secret from her, but the rest of my life was open for her inspection, and I needed her to know that.

“And that still stands, right?” she said. “You didn’t change the key-ownership rules in the last twenty-four hours and neglect to inform me?”

“Of course not.”

“Well, you sure as hell acted like you had. I put up with your shit all week, Clay, your moods, your temper, your demands. And when it was over, I felt like I should treat you to an evening out, ’cause god knows, you deserved it. I told you I was coming over, I knocked, I let myself in. You snarled and stalked out without a word of explanation.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“I know.”

Her eyes bore into mine. Fury blazed just below the surface. Her face was taut as she struggled to keep it under control. A tendril of that heat licked through me, sharp and white-hot, and my hands gripped the cold ground as I fought the urge to reach for her. I wanted to kiss her, to taste that anger, feel it release as she—

“I owe you an explanation,” I said quickly.

“No, you don’t. You never owe me an explanation for anything you do, Clay. If I haven’t made that clear already, let me state it, for the record, right now. I only demand two things of you. One, that you treat me with respect. Two, that you’re honest with me—that you be yourself. If you’re doing that, then I don’t need to know what you’re doing, where you’re going, where you’ve been, and I’ll never demand to know.”

“Like me, you mean. Like I do.”

She blinked. “That wasn’t a jab.”

“I don’t demand those things from you, Elena. I ask because I like to know what happened in your day. If I can’t be there, I want to hear about it. If you don’t want to tell me, you can just say so.”

“And sound like I have something to hide.” She opened her mouth to continue then, again, shook it off. She picked up the box of pancakes
and opened it. “They’re cold, but I can pop them in the toaster oven. Just hold on and I’ll—”

I grabbed her arm as she jumped up. When she stiffened, I let go fast.

“Just a sec, okay?” I said. “I
do
want to explain.”

She hesitated, then lowered herself back to the grass.

Of course, I couldn’t explain; not really. Maybe it would have been better to keep my mouth shut. But, like giving her the keys to my apartment, I needed for her to know as much as I could tell her.

“You’re right, about the presentation. I kept thinking, when it was over I’d be fine, but then it ended, and I still wasn’t sure how well it had gone. I came back to the apartment, and I was just…frustrated. Restless. More than restless. Ready to jump out of my skin. I wanted to work it off before you came over. I didn’t want you seeing me like that.”

I shifted, stretching my legs, but careful not to get closer to her, knowing I hadn’t earned that right back yet. “I already screwed things up this week. And I knew that if I even stopped to give a proper explanation, I’d snap. I shouldn’t have let things build up that way in the first place.”

She glanced up at me, eyes hooded. “And now you’re going to tell me that it was a mistake and it’ll never happen again.”

I wished, really wished, I could tell her that. But my conscience wouldn’t let my lips form the words.

“I can tell you that I’ll
try
not to let it build up like that,” I said finally. “I can tell you that I’ll warn you if it does. I can ask you to tell me if you see it starting. But I can’t promise that it’ll never happen again.”

She pushed up onto her knees and I knew I’d blown it, that she was leaving. Why hadn’t I just told her what she wanted to hear and—?

She leaned over and kissed me.

“Thank you,” she said. “For being honest. That’s all I ask.”

Her lips went to mine again. For a moment, I sat there and let her kiss me, knowing I didn’t deserve this. I wanted to be honest with her.

And so you will
, whispered a voice in the back of my brain.
When she’s ready, you’ll tell her, and everything will be fine. You can’t rush it or you’ll lose her.

My arms went around her and I kissed her hard enough to make a laugh ripple through her. I eased down onto my back and pulled her along with me. In the beginning, she’d tensed every time I moved her into any position approaching horizontal, but she’d soon learned it meant nothing.

I’d told her from the start that I’d let her set the pace, and I’d meant that. Patience was never one of my virtues, but in this case, it wasn’t an issue. I’d waited more than ten years to find a lover, and there was no rush to get to the finish line.

As Elena stretched out on top of me, her hands slid under my shirt, fingers tugging it out of my jeans, palms running over my stomach, skin hot against the rising chill of the night air. She pulled back, kissing me more lightly as her fingers tickled over my sides, pushing my shirt up. Then she paused.

“Too cold?” she whispered.

“Never.”

I pushed my shirt off over my head and tossed it into a nearby bush. Elena laughed. As I lifted my head to kiss her, I unzipped her coat. Then I pulled her shirt out from her waistband and unbuttoned it. She wasn’t wearing a bra. My hands slid up to her breasts, covering them, nipples squeezed between my thumbs and forefingers.

“Too cold?” I asked.

She grinned. “Never.”

Her tongue peeked between her lips as my mouth moved to her breast. She wriggled up to meet me, her bare stomach pressed against mine. Her knees slid down over my thighs, and she straddled me. She wriggled again, up then down, sliding until she found just the right spot, then she moaned softly as she pressed into me. I moved my hips up, rubbing against her, and felt her heart race as her fingers dug into my sides.

I teased her nipple with my teeth, then moved my hands down to her waistband, undid her jeans, eased one hand inside, and squeezed it between us. I slid my middle finger into her. She gasped, head arching back. As my finger moved in her, the back of my hand rubbed over my crotch and I pushed against it, swallowing a growl.

I could feel the wet heat of her, smell it, and the scent permeated my brain, scattering every other thought. I moved my mouth up to hers and kissed her hard. She returned the kiss full force, arms going around my neck. I ground against my hand and imagined that I was inside her.

When I thrust up, she nipped my lip, just hard enough to draw blood. I felt her tense as she tasted the damage, but I only kissed her harder, tongue flicking against hers. She started to relax, then tensed again, this time the muscles around my finger tensing with them.

I pushed into her, thrusting my hips against her, and her breathing accelerated, my own racing to meet it. Her fingers dug into my shoulders and I pulled back from the kiss to watch her as she climaxed. Her lips parted, eyes rolling up. A soft growl rolled up from her throat, and I lost it, thrusting against her, barely able to see her through the haze of my own climax.

A few moments later, her grip on my shoulders relaxed, and she pulled back, exhaling in a long sigh. Then she paused and wiped something from my shoulder. I caught the scent of blood on her fingers.

“Sorry,” she murmured. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Hear me complaining?”

A soft laugh. “No.”

“Then don’t apologize.”

She rolled off me, shivered, then slid her hands to my waistband. “Now, your turn.”

“I’m good.”

“Hmm?” She looked into my eyes, then blushed. “Ah, okay, then.” Another chuckle. “I’ll get you next time.”

I reached up and pulled her onto me again. She started to lie down with me, then stopped and looked around.

“What’s wrong?” I asked through a yawn.

“Uh, just realizing that we’re lying on the ground, half naked, about twenty feet from my dorm building.”

“See anyone around?”

“No.”

“Then don’t worry about it. If I sm—see anyone, I’ll tell you.” I yawned, gulping fresh air to wake my brain before I slipped again. “And you’re not half naked. Just me.” I straightened her coat over her shoulders. “There. Lie down on me again, and no one will see anything.”

“Except me lying on the ground in the middle of November, on top of a professor.”

“Stop worrying. I won’t let anyone see you.”

She grinned down at me. “You’ll protect me?”

“Always.”

As she looked into my eyes, her cheeks reddened slightly, and she ducked her gaze, almost shyly. Then she kissed my chin, snuggled up, and relaxed against me.

November turned to December before the university told me I had the teaching position. By then, though, I’d already come up with an alternate plan. I’d stay and work on that second proposed paper, whether the university chose to support me in it or not.

Two days before my monthly trip home, when I’d planned to tell Jeremy I was staying, the department gave me the news. If my decision to accept surprised Jeremy, he gave no sign of it, just told me he was proud of me. That made me feel just about as good as when Elena had thanked me for my honesty. I reminded myself that I was on the road to truth. I’d just have to earn forgiveness once I got there.

The next week, as Elena and I headed to High Park for a run, a light snow started to fall and we decided to forgo jogging and enjoy the mild winter night. We’d been out for about an hour when we passed a huge evergreen on a corner. As we walked by, the tree suddenly lit up in a blaze of colored lights.

Elena jumped back, then shook her head. “Must be on a timer.”

I walked a couple more steps before I realized she was no longer beside me. I looked back to see her still in front of the evergreen, looking up at it. When she glanced my way, her eyes shone brighter than the tree lights.

“Do you like Christmas?” she asked.

I blinked. “Um, sure. I guess.”

She laughed. “Not big on the holidays, huh?” She caught up with me and resumed walking. “Christmas can be stressful. All that pressure—buy the right gifts, spend too much money, hang out with relatives…not that I ever—well, I’ve
heard
it can be stressful.”

“It isn’t. Not for me, anyway. We’re pretty laid back about the holidays. And I do like Christmas, I just never considered it before. How about you?”

I asked on reflex, then wished I hadn’t. From the look she’d given the tree, I knew Christmas meant something special to her. Yet I also knew that if it brought back any happy memories, they’d be bittersweet, the vague remembrances of those few years before her parents had died. Since then she’d have spent the holidays alone, maybe with foster families, but still alone in every way that counted.

She turned to look out at the street and let the shadows swallow her expression. Before I could say anything, she looked back at me, eyes bright again.

“When do you go home?” she asked.

“Go—?”

“For the holidays. I was just thinking, maybe we could do a little Christmas of our own, before you leave. Nothing big, maybe presents and a nice dinner. Just…something. If that’s okay with you.”

I looked at her, then made a decision. “I’m not going home.”