Strength (Mark of Nexus #1) (33 page)

“I’m fine,” I repeated, propping myself against him. We were running low on sleep, and the past hour had left me drained. “Thank you.”

He quirked an eyebrow and peered down at me.

I felt my cheeks grow warm again as we sat there, bathed in the moon’s surreal glow. “For being, you know…”
An animal. A gentleman.
“You.”

His features softened for a moment, humored by my awkward gratitude. “What were you really going to say?”

I swallowed, very aware of the impressive hard-on he was still sporting. “Um…” I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. How could I say it? “Can I be honest with you?”

“You’re hurt.” He straightened, brows lowering in concern.

“What? N-No,” I stammered. “What I meant to say was, well, I’ve never…” God, this was embarrassing. I was confirming all of his suspicions about my fragility. “Never mind.”

“
Hey.” He carefully tilted my chin so our eyes met. “What is it?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing? Feels like something.”

Damn empaths.
“Feels like I’m going to kick you in the face if you don’t stop bugging me about it.”

“There she is,” he said, chuckling.

Ugh.
Didn’t he realize that every time he gave me one of those lopsided grins, I let go of myself a little bit more? If I wasn’t careful, he’d have my whole heart.

“We would’ve stopped,” he said, interrupting my thoughts. “The timing wasn’t right. Not yet, anyway.”

Not yet? Did that mean…?

“I don’t want to be a hypocrite, Rena.” He paused, as if carefully choosing his next words. “You were right. I can’t atone for the past, if I’m still living there. It’s time I do something more than just exist from day to day.”

“Like what?” I asked, leaning in.

“Well.” He shook his head and laughed at himself under his breath. “I guess it’s time to start taking chances, even if they mean regret.”

“You said you were going to regret kissing me. Do you regret that?”

He met my gaze and grinned so hard his dimples showed. “Not even a little.”

Damn right.
“So, where does that leave us?” I didn’t want to be pushy, but the man had a bad habit of speaking in riddles. I didn’t want to risk another misunderstanding between us.

“How about…together?” He laughed again, and I felt a surge of nervous energy flood my system.
His energy
. Seriously? The man was hot beyond reason. Why would he be nervous around me, of all people?

Wait. Together? As in, t
ogether
-together? I straightened. “What?”

“Rena,” he groaned, rubbing at his shoulder. “Don’t make this harder than it already is.”

“Are you asking me out?”

“Well, yeah.” He blew out a sigh and ran a hand back through his hair. “If you still want to give the relationship thing a try.”

Was he serious?

Chapter Forty

I could’ve exploded into a spray of colorful confetti, but I settled for the biggest smile I could manage. “Well, we’ve already got these matching tats, so I don’t see why not.”

Wallace grinned and lifted an arm behind me but thought better of it. The humor slipped from his features, and his arm dropped to the floor without the slightest hint of an embrace.

“Huh uh,” I teased, trying to salvage the moment. “You’re not screwing me out of my hug.” Shifting toward him, I got up on my knees and wrapped my arms around his neck.
Oh man.
He smelled good. If this kept up, we’d be down on the floor again.

Of course, he sat there like a freakin’ statue.

“Come on,” I prodded, leaning back to look him in the face. “At least make an effort.”

He let out a slow breath. “Maybe we should establish some ground rules.”

“Such as?”

“I don’t know. It’s not like I’ve had to worry about this before,” he mumbled, looking down to rub the back of his neck. “We just need to remember that being together doesn’t change things. I’ll have to be even more careful now tha—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I blurted, ignoring the last part of his spiel. “You’re telling me you’ve never had a girlfriend?”

“Are you serious? I would’ve killed a girl in high school.”

Comforting.
“Then you haven’t…?”

“Right.”

“Oh.” If I weren’t already sitting, my knees might’ve buckled with relief. “Good to know.”

“Good to know,” he mimicked in a high–pitched voice, flashing a grin. “Yeah, play it cool, Rena.”

Shit.
I’d been focusing on his strength and completely forgot about his stupid empath powers, again. “We’ll work up to the hug,” I said, changing the subject.

“Uh huh.” He got up and stretched. “We’ll see.”

“Where are you going?”

“I’ll be back,” he claimed, crossing the room. “I just need to take care of something.”

I wanted to snort. I could see what he had to take care of; I was just surprised it was still necessary.

“You might want to put on a shirt before I get back,” he threw over his shoulder, sauntering toward the bathroom door. “Just a thought.”

My eyes shot wide as I looked down at my exposed breasts, framed by the ragged scraps of cotton that used to be my nightshirt. I threw my arms over my chest and hunched forward, feeling my cheeks burn all the way to my ears. “Shut up!”

He snickered and disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. How had I let a detail like that slip my mind, while we were talking? Damn thermostat, making it all toasty in here.

By the time he returned, I was lying in bed, fully clothed in striped pajama pants and a tank top. I was hoping the change in wardrobe would douse the temptation for me to do something stupid. Keyword—
hoping
.

He crossed the room with a sluggish yawn, rubbing at his stomach. So help me, as long as I live, I’ll never get tired of seeing that man shirtless. How he stays so humble, I’ll never know.

A smile creased his eyes as he plopped down on the edge of the mattress. We both bounced, and I propped myself up on my elbows. God, five thirty never looked better.

“I wish I knew what you were thinking about.”

I blinked up at him. “Hm?”

“You’re really content over there. I think I’m getting a contact high off of it.”

“Do your superpowers ever sleep?” I asked, rolling my eyes.

“Only when I do.” He leaned back against the wall, clearly amused. “Or at least, they used to before someone started keeping me up at night.”

Oops.
“My bad.”
Did I really say that again?

“So, I’ve been thinking,” he began, looking up at the ceiling.

Man, I was tired. How did he have the capacity to think at this hour?

“You know my life story, but I don’t know yours. I figure if we’re going to do this, we might as well do it right.”

“Well, what do you want to know?”

“I don’t know. What’s your family like? I mean, I know about the church stuff, but that’s not a lot to go on.”

He wanted to know about my family? Voluntarily? “Well, my dad is retired from the military—he’s a Wal-Mart greeter now—and my mom is a cremator.” I felt a twinge of guilt as I spoke. Was it hard for him to hear about parents? “Uh, we have a big ol’ Alaskan malamute named Wolfie. Oh, and you know about my brother, Drew. He lives down near Athens with his prissy-face girlfriend, Brittani-with-an-i.”

“You don’t like her?”

“She doesn’t like me,” I scoffed. “She thinks I’m a tomboy, and I need to grow up.”

His lips twisted into an easy smile. “Are you?”

“Am I what? A tomboy?” Gee, there was a question I’d never heard before. “Just because I got kicked out of ballet and switched to gymnastics as a kid, doesn’t mean I’m a tomboy. I was just a little more rough-and-tumble than the other girls, that’s all.” At least, that was what Mom told me. I fell back onto my pillow, crossing my arms.

“Well, that answers that question,” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “How long did that last?”

“I quit gymnastics before high school. It was cool, but I wasn’t into the whole competition thing.” That, and I wanted to quit before I ended up a flat-chested teen athlete. Sure, it sounded stupid now, but things like that were important back then. “My dad pushed me into self-defense, instead.”

“Your dad’s a smart man.”

I smiled at his words. “Yeah, he’s always been pretty adamant about stuff like that. He didn’t like the thought of me leaving home unprepared. It wasn’t so bad, though. I ended up liking it and moving on to martial arts classes up here.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Should I be scared?”

“Oh, yeah. Totally.” I flexed and scrunched up my face. “What about you? Anything you’re into?”

“There’s not a lot I
can
do,” he said with a shrug. “It’s not like I can play sports or hold a regular job. Sometimes I tutor people.”

Tutoring?
I sprang up. “Hey, I might need your help.” Might. As in, I was going to fail my next exam if he didn’t help me. As much as I tried, my doodles in the margins never earned me any extra credit with my professor. “I’m not great with math.”

“I think we can arrange something.” His lips twisted into a dorky grin. “Math, huh? What are you studying?”

“It’s just a stupid gen-ed. requirement.” That I’d put off. “I’m actually in Social Work.”

“Oh yeah?”

“For now, at least. I mean, I want to help people—I just don’t know if this is the way I want to do it.” It was my turn to shrug my shoulders. “Everyone else is chasing their dreams. I guess I’m just waiting on mine.”

“I can relate to that,” he admitted.

“What? You didn’t dream of being a CPA when you were little?” I asked, trying to mask my yawn.

“Not quite.” He closed his eyes, and for a moment, I thought he’d gone to sleep leaning against the wall. “I guess I went the safe route.”

The band on my arm tightened, and I tilted my head. “What do you mean?”

“I chose accounting because it doesn’t require a lot of direct contact with people.”

Ugh. I should’ve known.
I scooted closer and moved to lean against the wall beside him. The cool cement pressed tiny indentations into my shoulders, ones that would match the blood-dotted grooves my knuckles were sporting from earlier. “Well, what would you do if you didn’t have to worry about it?”

He stayed quiet.

“Sorry.” I leaned over, bumping his arm. “That was pretty insensitive.”

“No, it’s fine.” His voice was getting rougher—I wasn’t the only one fighting fatigue. “It’s stupid, but I’ve always thought it would be cool to be an elementary school teacher.”

I blinked. Once. Twice. “Really?”

“Yeah, my mom was a teacher,” he explained. “It’s always seemed like something with such a real impact, you know?”

“That’s really sweet, Wallace.”

“Yeah, well that’s all it’ll ever be,” he muttered. “I can’t believe it’s going on six.”

“We should get some sleep.” I rubbed at the knot in my arm. “And this time, you’re not sleeping sitting up in some chair. I’m not going to be responsible for you waking up all cramped and sore.”

His lids lifted, revealing weary blue eyes. “It’s probably time for me to head upstairs, anyway.”

Something cold shot through my bloodstream, and I grabbed his hand. “Do you have to?”

“Have to what?”

“Leave?” I asked in a quiet voice.

His expression softened as he paused, his legs already thrown over the side. “You know I can’t stay.”

“I’m not asking to cuddle,” I said, releasing him. “I’m just...not ready for you to go yet.”
Oh, that didn’t sound desperate at all.

He gave me a long, hard look.

“I don’t think it would be a good idea.” The rest of his reasoning went unspoken, lingering in the air between us.

“We don’t have to touch. We can just lay here with our backs to each other. I mean, I would offer to sleep in Gabby’s bed, but I’m afraid of the jizz stain on her comforter.”

He grunted, almost giving into a snicker. “Did you just say jizz?”

“That’s not important right now.” I gave a weak smile and scooted to the end of the bed. “Look, you lie there and face the wall. I’ll lie here and face this way. You won’t have to worry about a thing.”

The odds were in my favor. He looked too tired to argue.

“Fine,” he muttered, stretching out onto his side. “But if you feel me move at all, I want you to jump out of bed and wake me up. I’m serious, Rena. You don’t know what could happen.”

“I get it, I get it.” I plumped the pillow and turned away from him. “Relax.”

Of course, now that he’d brought it up, it was all I could think about. I pressed my back against his, reveling in the warmth between us. What if he did have some kind of arm spasm in the middle of the night? If he killed that West guy with one blow, what could he do to me without thinking?