Schasm (Schasm Series) (33 page)

“I’ve been anxious all day.” He sweeps my hair off my neck and places it behind my shoulders. “It will be a good holding place for us.” His words send me through a loop and drag my mind back to the precise place I was trying to keep it away from.

I release my legs from around his body and place my feet back on the ground. I take a couple of steps backward, and shake my head in disagreement. “What do you mean?” I press my hand into the side of my cheek. “I thought—or I was hoping…“

He grabs my hand and pulls me back in. “You were hoping this could be a permanent residence.” He places his finger under my chin, lifting my face. “You’re the one who wanted to go back and deal with things. Remember?”

I shrug my shoulders and let my eyes fall toward the ground. The truth is, I don't know what I want. I want everything back at home to be okay, but I want this life too.

“I've been having so much fun here that I started to forget about what we
did
leave behind,” I say. “I hope we can fix everything when we go back home in a couple of weeks.” I fidget with the hem of my shirt, avoiding his normal response to this issue.

He combs his fingers through his hair and shakes his head with frustration. “We don't know how bad this situation is yet.” There it is, the same response I always get. It’s everything I already know. It doesn’t matter. “I don't want to make any permanent decisions right now. That's all.” He sighs. “I'm sorry, baby. I didn't mean to bring your mood down.” His hands slide down my back and rest over the waistband of my pants. “Can we forget the last five minutes?” He pouts. “Come back up here and kiss me." His lips mold into that crooked grin. He knows the affect it has over me. Damn him.

I wrap my arms back around his neck, bringing my lips close to his ear. “I’ll see what I can do.” I press my lips softly against his neck and release my arms. “So, where’s
my
bedroom?” I giggle. He groans.

"Down there." He points down the short hall. "I'll show you."

He pushes the door open, and I expect to see another four white walls with no furniture. However, this room is fully furnished: a king sized bed, mahogany furniture, a white plush area rug, and Parisian paintings cover the walls from top to bottom. My jaw drops open, surprised and in awe. The furniture isn’t what makes this room so unique though. The view is like nothing I’ve ever seen. The Eiffel Tower, sparkling and beaming with all its glory appears less than a mile from our apartment.

I spin back around to face him and place my hands against his chest. “When did you have time to do all of this?” I run to the window and fling open the French doors, welcoming the scent of fresh rain. “How did you manage to afford this place?” I lean over the side, looking at the street lined with bakeries and stores. “Do I even want to know?” I laugh.

He tries to inconspicuously pull a price tag from the hanging curtain. “I’ve had jobs over the years, and never really much of a reason to spend the money…until now.”

It’s a dream inside of a dream.

He pulls me around to face him. “Glad you like it.” He smiles. I reach up and brush my lips against his cheek. “This is amazing. You’re amazing.” I pinch my lip between my teeth, noticing how he looks even more beautiful under the glow of the Eiffel tower.

His eyes drift to my bitten lip. He clears his throat and takes a step back. “I think I’m ready to call it a night. Are you tired?” he asks.

Not really. I could stare at both of these views for the rest of the night. “I guess.”

He walks over to the bureau and pulls out a couple of the drawers. “I filled these up with the new clothes we just bought. I hope you don’t mind.”

He’s taken me to nearly every clothing story in this city. It’s almost as if he’s been trying to give me and show me everything I haven’t had in my life. I never had the opportunity to pick out my own clothes or wear anything that resembled a fashion trend from this century. Now I have enough clothes to fill my dreams for a lifetime.

I reach inside the top drawer, and run my fingers over the folded clothes. “I was wondering where all of our clothes were being sent.” I grin. I continue to fumble through the drawers, searching for something to wear to bed.

My cheeks fill with warmth when I pull out a silky black nightshirt. I can see Alex trying to hide his excitement. I’m not doing as good of a job hiding my nerves. “I’ll be right back.”

I slip into the bathroom. Oh boy. Okay. This is it.
Get a hold of yourself
, Chloe. What am I saying? He’s probably not even thinking about
that
next step right now. It’s too soon. Maybe not. It’s been a year. Breathe. If it happens, it happens. If not, oh well. I change my clothes and pull in a deep breath before opening the bathroom door back up. It’s fine. I’m fine. He’s fine.

I walk out and immediately seek for a distraction to give me some more time. The living room light is still on. I take another deep breath and flip the living room light switch off.

I turn back toward the bedroom and notice that he’s already shut the light off in our room. Maybe he’s just really tired.

I reenter the room, and see that it isn’t as dark as I had thought. The sparkling lights from the Eiffel tower reflect off of the walls. My nerves ease as the glow pulls me back over to the window. I press my face up against the glass, hypnotized by the view. My mind never lets me down.

Two warm hands slide across my shoulders and down both arms. A rush of goose bumps cover my skin. “I thought you were going to sleep,” I say in a soft voice, holding my focus on the blinding lights.

“How could I sleep when you’re standing here looking as beautiful as you are?” He places his lips on my shoulder. “Sleep can wait.” His stubble electrifies the skin on my collarbone.

“It’s late.” He tugs on my arm. “Let’s go to bed.”

I turn around, frozen, staring into his glowing eyes, knowing that everything is right in the world. He moves in closer then lifts me into the cradle of his arms, and walks me over to the bed. I'm lying here speechless and motionless in place as he climbs over me to his side of the bed.

He traces his fingertips down my arm. “Are you okay?” he whispers.

“Yeah. Why? I thought we were going to bed?” I’m not sure he’s buying that.

He leans over and slides his heavy arm around my waist. His lips trail kisses from my ear down my neck and over my shoulder. “Good night, beautiful.” His words tickle my skin.

“Good night!” I chirp.

Real smooth, Chloe
. I’m such an idiot.

I’ve been lying in bed wide-awake for a while, pondering my thoughts, nerves, desires…and his. My mind is restless, but my body is pretty comfortable lying so close to his.

“Are you asleep?” I ask, my voice hushed.

“No.” His voice is deep and smoky. “Are you okay?”

“I’m just having trouble falling asleep.”

“Me too,” he says. “Hey Chlo?”

“Yeah?” I turn onto my side to face him.

He places his fingers on the side of my face, brushing his thumb over my cheek. The intense look in his eyes does something to me. A rush of warmth fills my face. His eyes—those eyes—they’re methodical as they drift down to my lips. He moves in closer, placing one hand behind my neck and the other on my hip. Desire grows within his grip as he leans in, letting his lips float over mine. Our noses brush against each other's, sliding into place as if they are the last two pieces of a puzzle. The mint on his breath cools my lips and sends chills up my spine. My pulse quickens with anticipation. Unable to restrain my urge, I close the gap between us, sucking every last bit of air out of the little amount of space left between us.

Our lips move together in perfect sync. His hand glides from my neck up to the back of my head. The air in my lungs goes flat, and my head starts to spin. His fingers twist into my hair, forcing our lips to press harder and our breaths to become shorter. My gut is doing summersaults, and my heartbeat is dancing to it’s own rhythm. The uncontrollable motion between us causes a moan to escape from his throat, and the sound is like a melody designed for only my ears. I didn’t know I wanted this as much as I do at this very second, and I feel like I don’t need anything more in my life than I need him right now.

His fingertips trace down my leg before lifting it over his, snaking our bodies into a tight knot. The friction between us increases the heat with each movement, and I’m losing all sense of control. I press my fingers into his shoulders, holding him in place, forcing an entrapment of oxygen into a chokehold between us.

I hesitate only for a second before pulling myself on top of his warm body, locking my eyes into his as if I was confessing my undying love to him with just a look—with just my breath—with just my lips. His hands sweep under the hem of my shirt and up my back. He holds his grip tight, claiming me as his. I surrender to his touch, and lower myself onto him. His head cranes around mine, and his lips blow warm air into my ear. The feeling warms my insides, electrifies my nerves, and holds my pulse at hostage. I feel like he wants to say something, but words aren’t necessary. His breaths speed and slow against my skin. Why are they slowing? I need to hear the want through his incessant breath.
Keep breathing for me
, I plead in silence.

"Chloe…" he whispers. He glides his hands down my hips. "We shouldn't.” His face presses against my neck. “Not yet.” He exhales, releasing a sigh. “I shouldn't have let things get this far. It’s not the right time…I'm sorry."

Right time?

Embarrassed and overwhelmed, I flip over onto my side, wrapping myself in the sheets. I want to cry from the combination of emotions gnawing at my stomach.
I
shouldn’t have let things go that far. I should have kept things simple. We don't even know what our future holds—we could be dead soon.

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