Unspeakable (27 page)

“Shit, Willow, I was just turning the sink on. You’re not scared of me, are you? Because I’d never—”

“No, I’m not scared of you. You make me feel safe. That’s why I came.”

Brody straddled the bench next to me and cupped my cheek in his hand. He rubbed his thumb lightly over my skin. His eyes never left mine as he leaned forward. Our mouths were so close that I could smell his minty breath. I dropped my eyes from his and turned my face away.

He sighed and kissed the area in front of my ear lobe. I tried to hide the shiver that coursed through my body at the feel of his lips against my skin.

He nudged my face so I was looking at him. “You’re so beautiful.”

I let out a half laugh, half sob. “I’m mangled.” I was crying again. How could he think I was beautiful? I was damaged. Inside and out.

Brody shook his head, his hand still cupping my face. “I’m looking at a beautiful girl sitting in front of me, one that has driven me wild since the day I met her. You’re so freakin’ amazing and somehow, you’ve missed the memo. You’re kind, funny, intelligent, and so damn gorgeous. You’re perfect, Willow, every part of you.”

“I’m not perfect,” I whispered.

“You’re perfect for me.”

Breathe. You’re strong. Brody makes you stronger. Breathe.

Looking into his eyes, I smiled. I could feel butterflies filling my stomach—the colorful kind. Beautiful and graceful. No one had ever made me feel as beautiful as Brody did, as wanted, as loved.

“You’re so cute when you blush.” He smiled, rubbing his thumb over my pink cheek. “Come on, sit next to the tub.”

“What are we doing?”

“I want to clean the cut on your head and see how bad it is,” he said, throwing towels on the steps leading up to the jetted soaking tub.

“Wow, this is an awesome tub.”

“Do you want to take a bath and wash the blood away?”

“Um…” I bit my bottom lip, looking anywhere but at him.

“I meant you could take a bath. You. Alone. By yourself.” He shifted from one foot to the other, his cheeks turning slightly pink. “Not that I wouldn’t take a bath with you, you know, if you asked me. You’d have to ask real nice.” He laced his fingers together and put his hands behind his head, stretching his arms.

Watching his muscles stretch made all rational thought drain from my head. Seconds ticked by, and Brody gave me a concerned looked when I didn’t answer. I forced myself to look away and concentrate on the conversation. “No, that’s okay. Thanks though.”

“Can’t blame a guy for askin’. Here, sit on this step, lean back against these towels, and rest the back of your neck on the edge of the tub.” Brody sat on the tile ledge and turned on the water. He pulled the retractable bath-head out and ran the warm water over my hair. “Is that okay? It’s not too hot? It doesn’t hurt, does it?”

“Mm. It’s great.” I watched his face as he sprayed the water over my hair.

“I’ve never done this before. Are you sure it’s okay?” He looked into my eyes as he drizzled some shampoo on my hair.

“I’ve never done this either.”

I let my gaze wander over him. His arms flexed as he moved the water over my head. His rippled abs were just a finger space away. I let the tip of my finger run across his skin, watching as the muscles contracted and goose bumps covered them. His gaze darted to mine.

I looked up at him as he gently shampooed my hair and then applied conditioner. He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth as he worked, like he did when he concentrated on school work. When he glanced down, he caught me staring at him and smiled. He wiped the blood from the side of my face and above my eye.

“Is this okay?” he asked again.

“It feels good.”

Wrapping a towel around my hair, he squeezed the water out before wrapping it in a dry towel and helping me sit up. He placed a soft kiss on my forehead before brushing a droplet of water off my face. “Dizzy? Do you feel okay?”

“I’m good.” I smiled.

“Nothing started bleeding again. That’s a good sign.”

“See, no doctor required.”

“I still think—”

“No.” I shook my head, immediately wishing I hadn’t when pain sliced through it.

“Hurts, huh?”

“Don’t be smug. It’s not a good look on you, Ace.”

Brody helped me stand. I ran a brush through my hair while he grabbed the towels and threw them in a corner—typical guy—then he helped me back downstairs to the kitchen.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

“Starving.”

“So, are you going to tell me what happened?” He set a plate of fresh vegetables and hummus in front of me.

“Hummus?” I smiled.

“Yeah, someone told me it wasn’t a gross as it looked. Turns out, she was right. You trying to change the subject?”

“Can you just let me stay here for a while?”

“You should know the answer to that,” he said, sitting on the barstool next to me. He put his elbow on the counter and rested his cheek in his upturned palm.

I turned my head slightly and looked at him through my eyelashes. “Okay, then can I stay without talking about… things?”

He opened his mouth to answer, then closed it and nodded. “If that’s what you want.” He studied me for a moment before saying, “Willow, look at me.” I angled my body toward him. He stared into my eyes. “You can tell me anything. You know that, right?”

“I know.” I looked down at my plate, pushing the hummus around with a carrot stick.

Brody sighed and stood. “You want to watch a movie?” He held his hand out to me. I threaded my fingers with his. “Come on. Bring the hummus with you.” He started climbing the stairs.

“Wait, where are we going?”

“I was watching a movie upstairs when you got here.”

“Oh.” I walked with him upstairs, to a room at the end of the hall. He walked inside. I hesitated at the door. “Your bedroom?”

He nodded. I stood just inside the door and looked around. His room was twice as big as mine was. The walls were painted a silvery gray, and the curtains and bed linens were navy blue. A flat-screen television hung on the wall across from his bed. One wall held a dresser and a desk with an open laptop on it. The other had built-in bookcases crammed full of books.

Wandering over to the bookshelves, I set the plate of hummus down on the bedside table. I fingered some the books, reading the titles. Some recent titles I recognized, while others were older, classics.

“I have an e-reader now, but I can’t part with these,” he said behind me, his breath skimming my neck.

“I didn’t know you liked to read so much.”

“Yeah. Like you,” he said.

I turned and looked at him. He was standing so close I could feel his body heat, and I became acutely aware of his lack of shirt. I tried to keep my eyes on his face, but they had little minds of their own and wandered down his chest, taking in his broad shoulders, defined—very well defined—chest, tight, rolled abs, and oblique muscles as they disappeared into his low-riding sweatpants.

Ugh, I think I’m going to hyperventilate. At least if I faint, I can blame it on my head. But holy shiznet is he ripped.

I shook my head and tried to remember what we were talking about… books, yeah, books. “Um… how do you know I like to read?”

“I pay attention.” He shrugged one of his totally orgasmic shoulders. “You’re always taking books from the library.”

I, however, was not paying attention. Not at all. Not to what he was saying, anyway. I was paying a great deal of attention to how he looked, and he looked amazing. Like an underwear model, Greek god, and any other extraordinarily good-looking guy I could think of—but since my thinking was severely limited by the sex rolling off his body, I couldn’t come up with any more men to compare him to so I settled for,
oh holy hell is he hot.

Reaching up, I skimmed my fingertips over the tattoo circling his left bicep. It was an intricate tribal design. I traced it with my finger. He inhaled through his teeth, and goose bumps dotted his skin. I pulled my hand back.

“Sorry,” I whispered. “I’ve just wondered what it looked like since I saw it in class one day.”

“It’s okay.” His voice came out huskier than normal. Reaching out, he took my hand. “Let’s watch the movie.”

I perched on the edge of the bed. Brody threw pillows against the headboard. “Come here. You’ll be more comfortable sitting against the headboard.”

I scooted next to him. “What are we watching?”

That was the last thing I remembered.

Brody woke me at four in the morning. “Willow, wake up, darlin’”

“Is the movie over?”

He chuckled. “Yeah. You fell asleep.”

“Sorry.” I rubbed my eyes, wincing. Dropping my hands, I looked at him. “Did you call me darlin’?”

“Just tryin’ it out,” he said with a grin.

I scrunched my nose and shook my head. “Nah.”

“I didn’t think so, either.” He smoothed the hair from my face. “I need to take you to Jenna’s before her parents miss you.”

“Oh. Okay.” I climbed out of bed and followed him downstairs, grabbing my shoes. “Hey, do you think we could swing by the field and grab my bike? I rode it over here last night.”

“Sure. What’s it doing in the field?” Brody asked as he pulled on his Nikes.

“I left it there when I jumped the fence.” I looked up when he didn’t say anything. He was staring at me. “What?” I asked.

He smirked. “Very badass.”

“I just jumped a fence, jeez. You’re easily impressed.”

“Everything you do impresses me.” He skimmed his hand over my hair.

“Well, Ace, the feeling happens to be mutual. Except for one thing.”

“What’s that?” Brody tilted his head, his brows furrowed.

“I’m not impressed that you woke me up so early. That sucks.”

“You can go back to bed when you get to Jenna’s.”

“Are you kidding? Do you even know Jenna? She’ll want to know everything. Everything. Every single second will need to be accounted for. I’ll never get back to sleep.” I sighed.

“Poor baby,” he said, grinning.

“I see you’re completely torn up over it.”

Jenna was waiting for me at her front door when Brody dropped me off at her house an hour later. She put her fingers to her lips for me to stay quiet—like I was gonna sing and dance—as we made our way to her bedroom. As soon as she closed her door, she swung around and pointed her finger at me.

“Spill. Now.”

So much for sleep.

“Ok, but can we have some caffeine first?” I asked.

She ran downstairs, came back with two Red Bulls, and shoved them at me. “Now talk. I want to know everything. Starting with what happened to your face.”

Brody and I met each night at midnight. Usually, we drove to his aunt’s property and gazed at the stars while we talked. Some nights, we didn’t talk at all. We just lay side by side, holding hands. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. It fit. Nothing with Brody was uncomfortable, except when he touched me—and that was a good uncomfortable. One my body craved. I needed his touch almost as much as I needed to breathe.

Each night I was with him, I felt myself doing something I shouldn’t…

I was falling.

Falling fast and hard for Brody Victor. It felt like a dream. One when I’d jolt awake with the sensation I’d been falling. I wondered if Brody would be there to catch me or if I’d hit bottom. Because the bottom scared me. I knew who waited for me there.