Page 20 of Sealed in Ink
He sits down and runs his hand through his hair, looking more tense than I’ve ever seen him. It’s like I’ve awoken something in him. Part of me wants to run around the room giddily, punching the air. “We took each other’s virginity!” I’ll yell. Ibelievehe was a virgin, too. Brad’s never mentioned women. I’ve never seen anything online.
I sit opposite him. He’s moved the coffee table back into place, so we have a barrier between us.
“It was just sex, right?” I say.
“Don’t say that, Mary. It wasn’tjustsex. Sex isn’t some small thing. It means a lot to a person to do that. It should, anyway.”
“Most women my age have had sex hundreds of times, probably,” I tell him.
He sighs. “I think it should mean something. It meant something to us, and you felt it, too.”
“Maybe it did,” I say, but there’s nomaybeabout it. I felt the feeling, my body fusing to his, my soul sparkling.“Sparkling in sin?”I shake my head, dispelling Mom’s words and focusing on the now. “But that changes nothing. You and Brad are too close. It would wreck him. He’ll never find out if we’re good and never do this again.”
Rust stands, walks around the table, and sits beside me, but he doesn’t touch me. He looms over, staring. “Hiding it doesn’t change anything. I still did what I did.”
“Wedid whatwedid,” I correct him. “Stop trying to take all the credit. The blame.” I quickly correctmyselfthis time. “You don’t get to make this decision on your own. You can’t tell him without me.”
“Then you better agree,” he snaps.
“No, I won’t. It’s not the right thing for Brad.”
“For Brad or for you?” He leans down, his breath hot on my skin.
Like the first time, I’m unsure who initiates this kiss. It’s like the passion of our conflict can become romantic passion just as quickly. He slides his hand down my body toward my hip, tingling tendrils teasing all over me, but then he stops, leaning away.
“You’re so tempting, Mary. So beautiful. So perfect. So damn sexy.”
“You’re so everything,” I whisper.
He moves away from me with a visible effort. “If you don’t want to tell him, what do you want to do?”
“What does that mean?”
“I’ll never be able to see you again.”
That hits me like a punch in the chest. “Why?” I sound desperate and lame, but I don’t even care.
“Because there’ll always be a risk,” he says fiercely. “Whenever I’m around you, I’ll want to do it again, feel you, and be with you. So, if we’re not going to tell Brad, we must ensure we’re never in the same room. Ever. Not once.”
Panic flares through me. He’s making sense, but it’s painful to think about not being close to him, not seeing him, or kissing him. That was my life before today. Surely, I can go back to it. Or maybe there’s no going back.
“I don’t want to forget this,” I whisper.
“I’ll never forget it either,” he snaps. “That’s why we’ll have to do it this way. Or tell him.”
“I can’t tell him.”
“Then this is what we have to do.”
I reach out and touch his arm. His muscles tighten and swell like there’s a shockwave of lust moving through him. “Wait. Okay. I know you’re right, but first, I want something to remember this night. Something that makes it real.”
“What, Mary?” he asks.
I nod to his tattooing kit on the table. “Lightning. The thing that always scared me, but you fixed that, Rust.”
Mom would call this stacking sin on top of sin. Maybe that makes it easier to handle. All of it in one night. Then, I can bury my head in the sand and forget any of this exists.
“I’ll do this for you,” he says, leaning forward, gently kissing my forehead. It’s tender, but there’s a layer of hunger, a primal fierceness beneath it. Any second, he could snap. “But then it’s over. It has to be. Even if I don’t want it to end.”
