Sun Damage (The Sunshine Series) (30 page)

“
Better?” he asks.

“
Yeah.” I’m brave enough to talk now.

He sits up slightly, causing me to do the same; I can
’t tear myself away from him.

“
Is it the same as before, when you bit me?” I have to ask. “Does this make me want to be closer to you?”

He shakes his head slowly, favoring his neck. I
’m surprised it hasn’t healed yet. “The first time, it was because I marked you.”

I gulp. I forgot all about that.

“Are you going to explain why you did it?” I ask. I’m not mad, not even confrontational. “What that means?”

He takes his stained hand away from his neck. His shirt is soaked through with his own blood.

“You sure you’re okay?” I ask. I can’t help noticing he’s a little bit paler too. How slowly he’s moving.

Myles nods.
“I haven’t been bitten as a vampire in a long time,” he says. “I also didn’t know how much you would take.” He stares at his red hand before looking up at me. “It takes us longer to heal if we’re low on blood.”

“
Can I do anything?” I suddenly feel guilty. “I’m sorry.”

“
Don’t be,” he says with a faint smile, and I can see that carved out crescent moon shape at the corner of his mouth. I haven’t seen it in so long. “I’m happy it worked.”

I smile as well.
“Me too.”

He pauses for a long time. His eyes shut for too long when he blinks.
“Do you think you could do me a favor?”

“
Sure.”

“
In that fridge right there,” he says, pointing to the mini bar in the corner of the room. “There’s a Starbucks cup. Could you bring it to me?”

Though I
’m not sure how coffee is supposed to help, I quickly stand up and retrieve it. When I sit back down, he takes the paper cup from my hands and rips off the lid, placing it on the end table near the couch. When I peer inside the cup, It’s blood that greets me.

Myles takes one long, slow, gulp. He closes his eyes for a minute, and when he opens them, he
’s looking at me. “Thank you,” he says.

I can see his fangs now, the tiny points peeking out of his mouth.

He glances down at the cup. “We have to be careful about how we keep our blood with us, especially when we travel.”

“
You couldn’t disguise it with a better type of coffee?” I attempt a joke and I don’t feel like I’m forcing it, which is a good sign.

Myles laughs quietly.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”

I wait patiently until he
’s done drinking. I’m about to ask my question again, but he answers. “I marked you because I wanted to make it clear that no one else was to touch you,” he says. “And because it’s an important thing. It means a lot in the vampire world.”

“
So if you didn’t mark me, another vampire might have thought they could bite me?”

He nods, setting the empty cup next to the lid.
“And I wanted to be closer. I was going to ask...I know I should have explained it first. It wasn’t even my intention when I did it, not at first.” He looks into the cup before taking another sip. “It’s just that I care about you so much, love you so much, that it just sort of happened.”

I place my hand over the mark, the mark that is now a scar that I
’ll have for the rest of my life. A life that’s going to be very long if no one kills me.

“
I’m sorry,” he says. “I meant to tell you.”

“
It’s okay.” I grab hold of his hand. A faint part of Betrayed Sophie wants to not believe him, but New Sophie doesn’t even question it. I know deep down how I feel. I’m not going backwards anymore.

I rest my head on his chest again. The part of his shirt that touches my temple is damp.
“You have blood on you,” I say. I can smell it on him too. Metallic but warm, like a blanket.

His hand travels to my back.
“So do you,” he says.

I pull away so I can look down at my shirt. It
’s brown at my collar bone then bright red from the middle up, turning brown around the edges as it dries. I’m guessing there’s more on my face and throat.

I slide my fingers under the hem of my top. Then I lift it up until it
’s off.

Myles
’ eyes bulge the tiniest bit. If I were still human, I wouldn’t have seen it at all.

Then he takes off his shirt too
and nothing is uncomfortable. Everything fits together perfectly. I can see the mark I made on him, red, angry, and wet. I have to close my eyes because I feel my fangs pushing against my gums, threatening to come back out. I want to put my mouth there and kiss it until he’s clean. I want to press my lips to it and make it better, not bite him.

He must sense my struggle because he leans his head to the side and says.
“It’s okay. Don’t be afraid to feel what you feel. Not with me.”

I wrap my arms around his waist and pull myself closer. The only thing separating us now is the fabric of my bra. This thought would have terrified the old Sophie, but now, I’ve never wanted the barrier between us to disappear more.

Without another second of hesitation, I press my lips to his mark—
my
mark. Myles lets out a long breath, like he was holding it this whole time. He wraps his arms around me, his fingers lightly tracing the feathers of my wings. His lips are in my hair. I have never felt more at home than this, his chest against mine, skin touching skin, heart against heart. Some part of me has searched my entire life for a place where I just fit. It wasn’t with my parents or with the people at school. With my family and friends, I thought I had found it. With a piano, it made more sense. But this.
This
is where every broken piece of me fits in to. Every nick, bruise, and crack disappears, like it never even existed before this moment.

I kiss his neck and
taste his blood again. My fangs poke out and I don’t care. I’m not going to bite him. I just want to make it better. Once he’s clean, I look at the mark again. It’s closed up now, but still raw and red where I pierced the skin.

My lips trail up his neck, around his throat, only calming when they settle on his mouth.

Myles’ arms encircle me. “We don’t have to,” he whispers in my ear.

I kiss him again and stand, holding ou
t my hand for him. He takes it and I lead him the short distance to the bed. All I want is him. So much closer. I’m not afraid. I’m not nervous. I just want to let my body feel without my mind shutting it down.

He kisses me when we
’re sitting down on the clean, black comforter. “I mean it,” he whispers. “I don’t want you to do this is you’re not sure about it.”

I continue pressing into him, entangling my hand in his hair. He gently pulls away. I expect him to repeat himself again, but he just stares at me—
into
me.

“
Are you sure?” he asks finally.

I cup the side of his face.
“I’m not sure of anything anymore,” I say. “But this,” I pause, taking my free hand and placing it on his chest, causing a fissure between us. “This is one of the only things I can count on.”

Myles takes my hand and presses it into his chest even more. My palm tingles, my fingers are electrified with the thin beating inside. He leans his head down so he can kiss my neck, then my mark—
his
mark. The air that leaves his mouth is cool but it warms on my skin, which is growing hotter and hotter.

He’s babbling when there’s any type of pause.
“I’m sorry about everything,” he whispers. Or, “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.” Then, “I love you.”

He doesn’t need to say anything. I know. I know because I love him too. It
’s hard to admit, that after everything we’ve put each other through, that this is where we belong, but it’s easier to accept it. It’s easier to let go. Let the waves drag us under.

“
Myles,” I interrupt.

His head snaps toward me, maybe afraid that he
’s made me uncomfortable. That’s not going to happen. That’s not going to happen anymore or ever again.

“
It’s okay,” I tell him. He needs to hear it more than anything right now, especially because it’s true. Everything outside of these four walls may be howling at the door, huffing and puffing. But none of them can get in.

“
I love you,” he says again. His voice comes out rough around the edges, but it isn’t from fatigue, the way it was before. This is something different,
new
. This is something that makes my muscles tense, but not with fear. Something that keeps my lips against his, pulling him closer, needing him closer.

I fall back on the mattress, hanging onto him, afraid that the movement will break us apart when it
’s impossible. We can’t come apart. We have the same emotions, the same blood. There is so much of me in him and he in me already. There is no way that two people so entwined can ever become anything less.

I pull my face away eventually, just to catch my breath, which I still need. Myles doesn
’t, however, and he takes advantage of the fact.

His lips trail down my neck, my throat, collarbone, and then my chest. He plants three soft, careful kisses there. Then, after hesitating for a second he places yet another, lower this time.

His eyes are the only things that move then. Up to mine, where I reassure him that this is what I want. He closes them again and I close mine as well. His hands reach behind me, pulling me closer to his touch.

Such a simple sensation.
One I’ve felt a million times before while undressing and getting into the shower. But when the elastic around me goes slack, there is a split second of uncertainty, only that long. I wonder if I’m supposed to be scared or uneasy. I’m not. I’m anything but. His hands are soft. Softer than I have ever felt them before. I’m not sure if it’s because of my heightened senses or because no one has ever touched me there before. Not when I wanted them to.

My hands are in his hair again. He glances back up, looking for any signs of distress.

Are you okay?
It’s in my head. It vibrates through me. Becomes part of me.

Yes
. I don’t even have to try. I know he’s received the message.
Keep going
.

Myles moves upward again, and my heart beats faster and faster the closer he gets to my face. He pauses in the middle of my chest, listening to the sound, flicking his tongue out in time with the pound beneath the flesh.

I smile and he smiles against my skin before coming all the way back to my lips.

I
’m barely conscious of his weight on me, his full weight. I’m too preoccupied with the sensation of his bare skin against mine. This time, there is no barrier. Just us.

“
You’re so beautiful,” he breathes into my mouth.

I want to say something back
but there are no words my brain can form that will make sense once they leave my body.

My hands twine their way around the waistband of his jeans, then his do the same, around mine.

The same feeling. The same familiar-new feeling of fabric leaving skin. I wonder if he feels it too. I wonder if he gets a slight chill when the air in the room hits him, when my hands warm his skin.

Okay?
 He asks again.

I have a hard time not laughing, but I let it out.
“Myles, shut up.”

He laughs too, letting go of whatever doubt that he had in his mind that this is what I want.
“Okay,” he says, this time in agreement and not in question.

Then the process begins again. First he kisses my lips. Then neck, chest, then new places. Places no one has ever really touched before. Not like this. Not in a way that sets fire, cools it down, then rekindles the flame. I don
’t think there is a single scar he doesn’t trace with his mouth before his mouth rejoins mine.

There is a moment, when we
’re kissing, nothing separating us but skin, that he seems hesitant. He stares at me for a long time, tracing the slope of my hip with his fingers as I do the same to him. I didn’t think it was possible for something to be hard and soft at the same time, the way his torso is underneath my palm.

“
It’s okay,” I repeat softly. Nothing has ever felt so right. No other pieces have ever fit as well. “I want you to.”

His eyes, bright blue, search for a second more before his expression relaxes completely.
“You’ll tell me to stop if you need to?”

I nod.
“I promise.”

There may still be some scrapes, some dents in both of us. But that doesn
’t matter now. There is nothing else. And slowly, two broken pieces become one whole. The cracks get filled in.

Chapter 17

Shaded Memories

“Dig in like you can bury something that cannot die.”—The Local Natives