Inspire (34 page)

“The night you found me downtown—when I ran out of that club and you came after me … I’d thought I could fight the energy. I’d thought I could live without doing what I’m supposed to do, without affecting mortals. But the energy had a will of its own. My mind … I lost control and did a terrible thing. I put a lot of people in danger, and I was running from it when you found me.”

“What terrible thing?”

Her hand trembles, releasing her grip on my hair.

“There’s a fine line between genius and madness. A little time with me can open up a person to their potential, move them to greatness. But too much time with me … and that balance can be damaged. That fine line can be crossed. I … before we met, there was an artist I was
seeing
. He became obsessive. He couldn’t let go. Of me or what my abilities did for him. I stayed too long, and he tried to kill himself. It’s why I pushed you away at first. Why I ran the morning after our first night together. I’m dangerous. Being with me is
dangerous
. And you were better off never knowing me at all than risking the same fate as him. But—”

“But I kept coming back. Kept pushing you.”

“But I
fell in love
with you. And even more than that … you and I, we’re connected. I can feel it, like our fates are tied together.”

That’s it exactly. From the moment we met, I’d felt like there was something that tied me to her. I couldn’t let go even when she told me to. I couldn’t give her up even when she disappeared for months on end. Because something deep in me, buried beneath tissue and muscle and bone, something told me that we belonged together. I clung to that, knowing that regardless of what was happening in that moment, somehow we’d be together in the end.

But I’d thought that was love. Faith, maybe. Stupid, blind stubbornness.

Not something
more
. Something supernatural.

“So when you left,” I begin, trying to piece everything together.

“I saw you singing in your kitchen. Writing music. You never told me you were a musician. The whole time we were together, I thought I could keep you safe because you weren’t in any way connected to my ability. I would burn up the energy with Lennox and Mick and—”

“Jack?” Shit. Oh shit. Am I crazy that this is actually making sense to me? That I believe her?

“Yes. Him, too. It was the only way I could spend time with you and keep you safe. I thought …” She laughs darkly. “I thought I had everything figured out. I thought I’d finally found a way to have a normal life. To have all the things I’d never been able to have … love, family, a home. A future. Then I saw you in your kitchen, and I knew I had only fooled myself into believing what I wanted to be true. I was just as dangerous to you as I had always been. And I’d been so incredibly selfish. So … I left. It was the only way I knew to guarantee your safety. If I hadn’t …” She looks down at my fingers curled around her hips, her body pressed against mine. “Well, I’m not very good at staying away from you.”

“Good.” It’s the first thing that comes to my mind, my gut reaction.

She shakes her head and starts to peel my hands away from her hips. I let her, but she’s not about to move away from me now. The only thing keeping me together, the only reason I’m not completely
losing my mind
right now is because I can touch her, feel her, know she’s real. My hands migrate to her neck instead, gently pulling her toward me. She doesn’t hesitate until her mouth is almost on mine.

“Wilder, don’t. Are you even listening to me? Spending time with me could ruin you. It’s not safe.”

I keep pulling her, until her mouth is a breath’s width from mine.

“Did you ever stop to think that maybe I started writing music again not because of any magical ability on your part, but because I love you? Is that not reason enough to be inspired?”

She exhales against my lips, and when her eyelids fall, they send a few tears down her cheeks.

I kiss her then, and she doesn’t fight me. Her body melts into mine, each soft curve tempting me to pull her closer, hold her harder, until the only thing I can feel or see or hear or smell or taste is her. I coax her mouth open, weaving my fingers through her wet hair, and let her become my everything.

It’s easy, really. To get lost in her.

Our clothes are cold and wet, but I can feel the hint of her hot skin beneath. I drag my fingers up her spine, introducing myself to her body again, trying to swallow all this new, strange information she’s given me.

A muse.

My brain conjures an image of marble. A lifeless portrayal of wavy hair, barely hidden breasts, holding an instrument maybe. Are there figures of her out there like that? Paintings? I know Jack painted her. And suddenly my mind is filled with hundreds upon hundreds of imagined paintings and photographs and sculptures. I think of all the eyes that have looked at her, hands that know the warmth of her skin, mouths that have kissed where I’m kissing now.
She’s immortal
.

I burn with the need to erase every single person who came before me. To know the shape of her body better than anyone has. To own more of her. To wrap her up in whatever it is that binds us together until she’s as helpless without me as I am with her.

I reach for the hem of her dress, pushing it up her thighs, and she stills.

“I heard you,” I say before she can protest again. “I know who you are. I know the risks.” I wait until her eyes are on mine before continuing, “But I don’t care. I have never been so scared in my entire life as I was when I saw all that blood tonight. When you left three months ago, I thought that was the hardest thing I’d ever faced. And I
was
absolutely miserable without you. But a part of me always knew you wouldn’t stay away forever. I believed that you would come back because we belong together. I couldn’t see any other future for myself but with you. But tonight … everything happened in slow motion. You were running from me, and you were so damn close. If I’d been a little faster, that guy never would have hit you. Or maybe I could have caught you. Or if I’d listened to my brain the first time I thought I saw you in that bar, maybe I wouldn’t have chased you outside in the first place. I thought of all the dozens of things I could have done differently. They flashed through my head faster than I could get to you. And I thought … Christ, Kalli. You were unconscious and bleeding, and I thought I’d lost you for good. Not for a few months. But permanently. If it’s addiction you’re worried about, too late. I already can’t live without you, but I swear it has nothing to do with music or energy or any of those things. And if you think I’m going to walk away because of all of this, you’re wrong. We’ll find a way to make it work. I’ll never play music again. You can hang out with fucking Jack as much as you need to. And if that’s still not enough, then we take our chances. I don’t give a fuck about genius. But I’ll take madness if it gives me you first.”

She starts to speak, but I cut her off again. I’m done letting her take all the responsibility on herself, letting her make all the decisions.

“There’s still blood on you. I can’t concentrate on anything else but how I almost lost you tonight when I see it. Let me wash it off. Then you can say whatever it is you have to say.”

After a moment, she nods.

“But just so we’re clear, it won’t change anything. I love you. Fuck everything else.”

She laughs under her breath. Or at least I think it’s a laugh. There are still tears in her eyes, and her lips are drawn in a tight line, so it’s hard to tell. 

She braces her hands on the sides of the tub and lifts herself up off me. I grab hold of the bar on the tile wall, and pull myself up after her. Then it’s just the two of us, standing before each other in a too small space, and it feels like things have come full circle. There’s a weight to the moment that I can’t describe, beyond the fact that I love her and she loves me. More than the importance of her secrets. I’ve never really been the type to believe in fate. I couldn’t stand by while my father dismantled the family he was supposed to love and provide for and say, ‘Things happen for a reason.’

But now?

I know in my heart that we’re exactly where we’re supposed to be. And if there were ever a reason to believe in a bigger plan, Kalli is it. She’s the only fate I want any part of.

I take the hem of her dress again, and this time she doesn’t resist when I begin to pull it up her body. She raises her long, lithe arms, and I keep dragging until the fabric is completely over her head. I ball it up and throw it on the bathmat just outside the curtain. As soon as we’re out of here, I have every intention of tossing that blood-stained thing in the trash.

Kalli stands before me in her bra and underwear. I turn her around, and when I run my fingers from her neck down to the clasp, she trembles in front of me. I drop it outside the curtain too, and then tuck my fingers under the fabric around her hips. Then she’s standing in front of me bare, and there’s a smudge of dried blood where her shoulder meets her neck.

I grab a bar of soap and work up a lather between my hands. Gently, I rub at the skin there until it’s nothing but smooth, unblemished perfection. I keep going, cleaning her shoulders and her back, then down her arms. Even when I don’t see any hint of blood on her. When I turn her toward me, she doesn’t hesitate. She lifts her chin as I take in the faint trail from where the blood had run down her face and neck until it met her clothes. My stomach clenches, but I force focus and calm, gentling my touch as much as I can.

I start with her hair, trading soap for shampoo, and gently work at the blood that’s still clumped along her hairline where the wound had been. I focus there for a little while, then add shampoo to the rest of her hair, watching carefully to make sure none drips down her forehead. She tilts her head back, making it easy for me, and I loop one arm around her middle before nudging her to slant her head back farther, into the spray of the water. Her bare stomach presses tight against mine, and I can’t do anything to control the hard-on that presses at her through my wet jeans.

I use my free hand to angle her head back and help rinse the shampoo from her hair. It’s thick and long, and it takes forever for the shampoo to wash out. I can tell she’s tired, so I cup my hand around the back of her neck, so she doesn’t have to hold the weight up anymore. When her hair is fully rinsed, she lays her cheek against my chest and laughs softly.

“What’s so funny?” I murmur, scooping up water in my hand to pour along her shoulders and collar bone as I hold her.

“I think you used a fourth of a bottle of shampoo in my hair.”

I frown. “You have a lot of hair. And I wanted to make sure all the blood was out.”

She laughs again, a little harder this time, and it feels so damn good to have her in my arms again. I missed that laugh. “You only really need to put shampoo at the top. The rest gets clean enough as you rinse it out.”

I take her long hair in my fists, squeezing out the excess water.

“I’ll remember that for next time.”

I use a finger against her chin to tilt her face up so I can clean the rest of the blood off, but her eyes have gone vacant at my last words.

“There
will
be a next time, Kalli.”

I pull away from her long enough to poke my head out of the curtain and snag a washcloth from a shelf on the wall outside. I wet it with warm water and a little soap, and begin cleaning off her face and neck with as much care as possible. When I’m done, I let out a relieved breath and hang the washcloth over the bar on the wall.

“How is it that I always end up fully clothed in a shower with you?” I ask, trying to find at least a little levity in this heavy day.

“You’re not technically
fully
clothed.”

I’d taken my shirt off to use as pressure on her head out in the rain. And I’d at least lost my shoes and socks before stepping in after her this time.

“Wet jeans are wet jeans, sweet.”

She bites her lip, her eyes trailing down over my chest. She lingers for a moment at the tattoos on my arms, even reaching out to span her fingers over the Atlas figure. Her fingers tighten around my forearm, and her gaze travels the rest of the way down.

I see the moment she comes to a decision, releasing that bottom lip and my arm, reaching for the button of my jeans instead.

Maybe I should have stopped her. Maybe that would’ve been the gentlemanly thing to do. But the need to touch and claim her rides me hard. It’s not just the supernatural stuff or the thought of all the relationships she’s had in her past or the scare we had tonight.

I also just fucking missed her.

Like I’ve been living blind for the last three months, I don’t want to blink for even one second as I soak up everything about her.

She pushes my jeans and underwear down over my hips, and I take over dragging them the rest of the way off. The wet material sticks stubbornly to my skin, but soon enough, I toss them out of the shower to land with her clothing. Her fingers graze along my hip before trailing up my side to my ribs. Her eyes follow her movement, still hesitant, so I keep my hands at my sides, waiting for her move.

She swallows and whispers, “I missed you.”

I smile. “You took the words right out of my head.”

With her face still tilted down toward my abdomen, her eyes lift just enough to meet mine. I can read the longing in her plain as day, but she’s still scared. If she needs me to be the one to make that final push, I will. And I won’t regret it for a second.

I touch my thumb to her bottom lip, tracing the fullness, feeling the tease of breath on my skin.

“Three months was too long to go without kissing you.”

I bend, replacing my thumb with my mouth to suck her bottom lip between my teeth. The hand on my ribs slides around to my lower back, and her body falls against mine. When I cover my mouth with hers, whatever hesitancy she felt is long gone, and she kisses me back fiercely. Her fingers dig into my back, and the feel weights me in the moment at the same time that it sends need barreling down my spine. I pick up her other hand and drag it up to wrap around my neck.