Release (12 page)

Now he looked hurt, and I reached for his hand and held it in my much smaller one. “You have to understand — I’ve been screwed over. It’s always what I expect of people.”

He nodded slowly. “I’d never hurt you, though.”

“I know. That’s what I’m trying to say. You’re so sweet and strong. You’re caring. I didn’t expect any of that. I’m getting attached. And I know you’re not out to disrespect me or anything, but you have to leave eventually. I just don’t want to set myself up for heartbreak.”

My cheeks burned. My candor would probably solve my problem by scaring him away. But the truth had spilled out, and now he knew.

Realization dawned on his face. “You’re worried I’m just looking for an offseason hookup.”

I cringed. “That sounds awful, but … yeah. You’re young and unattached. Why not? I’m sure lots of people our age do that.”

“Not me.” His expression had turned serious, and he slid his hand out from mine, wrapping it around mine. “I don’t have casual sex. I haven’t been with a woman since my last relationship. I haven’t even kissed anyone until you.”

I arched my brows with surprise. “Why not?”

“I don’t want to. I’ve always been pretty sentimental about that stuff. Why kiss a woman I don’t have feelings for?”

“You have feelings for me?” My hand flew up to my mouth as soon as the words came out, covering it. My face was now on fire.

Orion smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Yeah. How could I not?”

He reached for my hand and gently tugged it away from my mouth, tracing his thumb over my bottom lip. I swallowed hard, not wanting to move for fear of breaking this spell.

“You’re amazing,” he said softly. “So beautiful. Smart. Tough.”

I laughed and bowed my head. “Me? If only you knew.”

“I know someone hurt you,” he said, brushing the backs of his fingers across my cheek. “And you’re still trying to give me a chance. That has to be hard.”

Tears pooled in my eyes. “It’s that obvious?”

“No,” he said softly. “Not to anyone but me. The way you jump when I touch you sometimes or get uncomfortable if I’m on top of you – I can just tell.”

I tried to look down again, but his fingers held my chin in place. “It’s feeling trapped that bothers me.”

He nodded slowly. “If you ever want to talk about it, I’m here. And if you don’t want to, that’s okay too.”

“This has to be more than you bargained for,” I said. When I smiled a tiny smile, the tears spilled over onto my cheeks.

“I bargained for
you
. And got exactly what I wanted.”

I wanted to believe him, but the voice of doubt was nagging inside my head.
You’re not good enough for him. He doesn’t know everything yet. He’ll find someone better.

He stroked his thumb across my jawline and I wished the voice of doubt would fade away and let me enjoy this moment.

“About what you were saying,” he said, “I want us to keep seeing each other when I go back. You already know I have a psycho ex, and I’m sorry about that. I don’t want her coming between us, okay?”

I nodded, feeling cocooned in the warmth of his words. He wanted to keep seeing me. He had feelings for me.

But how would he feel if he knew the whole, dark truth about me? I was afraid to find out.

The window air conditioner in Samara’s apartment shut off, blanketing the bedroom in quiet. The damned thing had probably broken – it sure as hell hadn’t shut off because it was cool in here.

It had to be more than eighty degrees in this apartment. And yet, it was perfect. We were tangled up in each other on top of the bed, surrounded by complete darkness. Samara had surprised me by having her shirt pulled up when she curled up in my outstretched arms. I was finally feeling her warm, soft skin against mine. Her shorts exposed her legs, which I had my thigh hooked over.

“I’ve never watched a hockey game,” she said out of the blue. I laughed at her confession, stroking the damp, sweaty hair at her neckline.

“Will you come see me play?”

“I’d love to.”

“I’m gonna miss this. Falling asleep with you every night.”

Her fingertips traced across my chest. “Me too.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Did things go bad with your adoptive family? Is that why you never talk about them?”

She was silent for a few seconds. I ran my fingertips down her spine, hoping she was ready to open up to me about this.

“I was never adopted,” she finally said. My fingers froze.

“What do you mean? You said you went into foster care when you were five.”

“I did. But I was never adopted.”

“You were in foster care … for …?” I stumbled over the words, my mind reeling.

“Until I turned eighteen,” she said softly.

“Samara.” My throat tightened and I resumed stroking my fingertips across her back. “That must’ve been hard.”

“It was at first. I thought something was wrong with me. But after a year or so, I realized it was never gonna happen. People are afraid to adopt kids like me.”

“What does that mean – kids like you?” I asked, picturing a beautiful little girl with big hazel eyes and a dazzling smile.

She sighed, her breath warm on my chest. “Kids who’ve witnessed sexual abuse. It has to be disclosed to potential adoptive parents.”

I thought I might stop breathing as her words sank in. It hit like the hardest blow I’d ever taken in a fight. I wished the lights were on right now so I could see her. But maybe the darkness made her able to talk about it.

“Samara. Baby, I’m sorry. Were you—”

She cut me off. “No. I never was. But my father abused my mother in every way possible. Physically, emotionally … and he raped her in front of me.”

I wrapped my arms around her tightly. This fucking hurt. My chest was as tight as my throat as I imagined the child she’d been enduring such horror. I wished I hadn’t asked. But that wasn’t fair. Sharing meant everything – both the good and the bad – and she was worth it.

“I don’t remember much of it,” she said. “And out of six foster homes, only one was shitty. That’s pretty good.”

“So you were in a foster home during high school?”

I felt her nodding against my shoulder. “I was in the same one from fourteen to eighteen. It was the closest I ever felt to having a family.”

“They were good to you, then?”

“Yeah. But it’s still different. You don’t dare complain or act out – ever – because you could get moved to a new foster home.”

I pressed my lips to her damp forehead. “So you just bottled everything up?”

“Yeah. And I felt not good enough all the time. I went to counseling and worked through those feelings, but I still fight them sometimes.”

I wanted to tell her she was more than good enough. She was better than any woman I’d ever known. But I thought I should let her talk instead of trying to cover up her feelings with reassurances.

“You want to hear something crazy?” she asked.

“Always.”

“In the foster home where I turned eight, my foster mom made me the most beautiful birthday cake. It had pink and purple flowers. Her family owned a bakery and she was good at decorating cakes. That was the first birthday cake I’d ever had. I’d never felt so special. I cried when she cut it because I wanted to keep it forever. And that’s why I love decorating cakes. I hope that I can make someone else feel as happy as I did that day. It’s kind of silly.”

I cleared the emotion from my throat. “It’s not silly at all. Can I tell you something now?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m falling in love with you.”

There was a note of silence before she spoke. “You are?”

“Yeah. I’m glad you told me all that. I know it’s hard for you. But for as long as you want me, I’m yours, Samara. You don’t have to be alone anymore.”

She pressed her lips to my chest in a soft kiss. “Don’t promise me forever, Orion. You’re leaving soon. And you never know what could happen.”

“I know my heart. And if you want it, it’s yours.”

Her chest rose and fell against mine, and I thought she’d fallen asleep when she spoke two words that made me weak with happiness.

“I do.”

The air conditioner roared back to life, and I continued stroking my fingertips across her hair line. I’d seen her every day in high school, never realizing this was the woman who would one day own me. Life had a damned good sense of humor sometimes.

Balancing the large box in my hands, I leaned toward the doorbell on Orion’s mom’s house and used my elbow to press it. When the chime sounded inside, I grinned with excitement.

Footsteps pounded toward the door and Chloe threw it open.

“Happy birthday!” I said.

“Thank you,” she said, giving me a gap-toothed smile. “Is that my cake?”

Her face lit up when I nodded. I stepped inside and we headed for the kitchen together. She didn’t really walk – it was more like a giddy skip.

“We can play Barbies if you want,” she said. “Grandma got me a new one for my birthday.”

The kitchen was buzzing with activity when we walked in. Diane was chopping vegetables and Olivia was hanging up a ‘Happy Birthday’ banner. Orion was charging through the room with Drew on his back.

“Hey,” Orion said, bending down so Drew could slide down to the floor. “I would’ve come out to the car and carried that in.”

“I’ve got it,” I said, setting the box on the kitchen table. He walked over and kissed me, glancing down at the clear plastic window on top of the box.

“Wow,” he murmured. “That’s incredible.”

“I want to see!” Chloe cried.

“Thanks for making the cake,” Olivia said, glancing down at me from the chair she stood on as she worked on the banner. “And at the last minute. I was going to do it, but homework, and … anyway, thank you.”

“I was glad to,” I said, opening the top of the box and folding its sides down. “Cakes are my thing. I really enjoy making them.”

“That’s my birthday cake?” Chloe’s blue eyes sparkled as she looked up at me.

I nodded and a smile spread across her face. Orion had told me she loved hearts and rainbows, so I’d made a large, heart-shaped cake and decorated it with frosting flowers in every shade of frosting we had at the Supersaver. It was bright and elaborate. I’d had a moment where I wondered if it was too much, but then I’d decided to just go for it.

“That’s cool,” Drew said, arching his brows as he studied the cake.

Chloe threw her arms around my waist. “I love it!”

Diane and Olivia approached to admire my handiwork.

“Samara,” Diane said. “That’s beautiful. So fancy! It must’ve taken you hours to make that.”

I waved dismissively. “I like making cakes. And I wanted Chloe to have a great one.”

Reaching into the bag I’d brought in on my shoulder, I pulled out a small platter and carried it to the counter.

“For Drew,” I said to Olivia. I’d used fruit in every color from the Produce Department to make him a rainbow of his own. It was layered in rows with a small bowl of yogurt dip on the side. I knew his diet didn’t allow for splurging on cake, and I’d hoped to make him feel included.

Olivia’s eyes softened. “Thank you, Samara.”

Since Orion and I had become inseparable, Olivia had started warming to me. When she reached for me with a hug, there was a shine to her eyes, and I felt myself misting up a little, too. This was what I’d missed growing up, and still did to this day. A family.

The house was soon full of people. Olivia and Orion led games in the back yard for the dozen or so kids Chloe had invited to the party.

I stopped to watch them as I was taking a tray of grilled hot dogs to a picnic table for the kids’ dinner. Orion was clowning with the little boys swarming him. His bright, happy smile reached into my heart and took hold.

My feelings for him seemed to grow deeper every day. I never wanted this summer to end. But it had to, and I’d retreat back inside the safety of my shell when Orion left Henley.

I headed back for the kitchen, about to open the sliding glass doors when arms wrapped around my waist from behind. Orion’s short, scruffy beard brushed over my neck, causing a pleasant shiver when he kissed me.

“Will you stay here tonight?” he said in a low tone next to my ear. The thought of sleeping in his bed with him made me warm and more than a little excited.

“Uh … is it okay with your mom?” I asked.

He laughed against my skin. “Yeah, it’s fine.”

“I’ll need to borrow something to sleep in.”

“That can be arranged.” He kissed my neck again, and I felt a tug of self-consciousness for getting turned on at a child’s birthday party.

“Thanks for this,” he said, his tone turning serious. “The cake, and for being here. It means a lot to me.”

“It means a lot to me, too,” I said, looking at our reflection in the glass door. He looked very good wrapped around me. “That you wanted me here.”

He used his hands on my waist to turn me towards him. “You know, this you and me thing?” he said, brushing the hair away from my face. “I think we’re on to something really great.”

I smiled at his boyish grin. We were. But then another pang of sadness hit, because I already knew how much I’d miss him when he was gone.

I slid into my new jeans and checked my reflection in the mirror from all angles. They looked good on me, the dark fabric fitting against every one of my curves.

When I’d gone into the department store the other day, I’d been planning to just browse. But the clearance rack of jeans had summoned me. They were a steal, and I felt confident in them.

Orion was picking me up for a date in about thirty minutes. I still needed to do my hair and makeup, but first I had to do my daily Arizona State Prison database check.

I flipped open my laptop and typed in
Matthew Carlson
, thinking about whether I should wear my hair up or down as I waited for the page to load. I decided on up, because it was hot outside.

Inmate status: paroled

I stared at the screen in disbelief. This couldn’t be real. Had I gotten the name wrong? The mug shot on the screen told me I hadn’t. The shaved head and cold, distant brown eyes looking back at me sent my stomach into a sick, familiar churn.