Page 20 of The History in Us

“Don’t be.” I snapped, watching her eyes shift downward where she played with the zipper on her sweatshirt. It was too cold for something so thin, and if I had a coat, I’d cover her. My own protective layers would have to suffice as I walked the fifteen miles back to Traverse City.

“You should probably go check on your friend.”Run, I wanted to scream. Run, before I step forward, like my heavy feet want, and wrap myself around you. Run before the dirt of a Walker taints you, you innocent thing.

“How long are you home for?” The tenderness of her voice trembled with her conviction to continue a conversation. She dropped the zipper of her sweatshirt and slipped her hands into the pockets. Her hair fell in waves off her shoulders. Her delicate form shivered.

“It’s cold out here. Go back inside.”

She continued to stare at me. “Do you remember me?”

No, I wanted to scream. Don’t even try to recognize me.

“Nope.” I shook my head as I held my breath. She stepped closer to me, and I inhaled the fresh scent of her. Something crisp, wintery, like newly fallen snow. She shivered again and my hands reached forward to rub up and down her arms, feeling her thin shape, while bright innocence stared up at me.

“Are you a hero yet?” The honesty of her question startled me, and my throat struggled to hold the laughter scrapping inside. I’d never been a hero to anyone. While I pondered her question, her hand cupped my face, before one set of knuckles slid down my neck to scratch the newly grown stubble. The motion brought me comfort and cold skin melted under the sudden heat. A separate part of me sprang to life.

“I…” My mouth opened to speak when her soft body brushed up against mine.

“Thank you for your service,” she muttered before soft lips rubbed over mine. As she pulled back slowly, but too soon, my mouth followed. Metal to a magnet, she drew me to her and my mouth covered hers. I was a soldier, trained for capture, but the inexperience of these lips beneath mine told me I’d have to march forth with caution. I tugged at the bottom petal curve and slipped my tongue over the open seam, asking for surrender from her. Lips parted with a quiet squeak, and I stilled before a hesitant tongue met mine. A subtle swirl, a shuddering sigh, and my mouth lost control. My hands cupped her neck, just under her jaw, tipping her head to allow access to invade. Pillaging her mouth for its warmth, I savored her tongue, ravaged the comfort of a connection with someone alive. I sensed it in the very nearness of her. This girl wanted to live an exciting life. Her hand slipped down my jaw, rounding my neck, and I pressed her to me as I drank in the sweet innocence of her. A girl representing everything this town could be, and everything I wanted to leave.

A girl. Only seventeen.

I pulled back swiftly. Her hand slipped from my nape, but her eyes remained closed, her face flushed. Slowly, the lids rose, revealing the dazed gaze of one dreaming, fantasizing. I swallowed hard, caught between wanting to be her prince and knowing I was no hero.

“You stay safe,” she whispered. “Stay alive. I’m still waiting.”

Shaky fingers came up to her mouth, tracing over lips now rosy from pressure and pleasure. She stepped back as the door to the bar opened.

“Katie, are you coming back inside?”

Katie. My heart reached out to envelop her name, holding it pressed to an organ slowly beating with a painful life.

* * *

We’d had a great day. After the initial shock of my invitation wore off, and awkward silence turned to compatible quiet, Katie and I fell into a rhythm of walking toward the zoo. The distance was much farther than I anticipated. My need to run outweighed geographic logistics, but I couldn’t sit in the apartment with my thoughts of her any longer. And yet, there she stood on the street, as if waiting for me. My thoughts tormented me with hope that she still waited for me.

AJ’s interest in the animals distracted us from the silent weight of last night’s kiss. Mistake number five million in my life, but I paused at the count. That wasn’t true. Kissing Katie hadn’t been an error. Those innocent eyes looking up at me, those tender lips moist with need, and the scent of her was something refreshing and promising. My emotions coiled, circling between hope and doubt. I didn’t know how to broach the topic of last night, and Katie didn’t acknowledge it either, so observations of lions, tigers, and polar bears filled the tender pressure between us.

“Let me take a picture of you with AJ,” I offered, noting the light on her hair caught her highlights. She was so beautiful, and I wanted to remember this day. Photos were my thing, although I wished I had my Nikon instead. I loved photography. It captured a moment. It froze history. It held time. My phone wouldn’t do her smile or her shining eyes justice, but it was the best I had.

When Katie’s eyes met mine through the lens, I forgot my name, my location. All thoughts zoned in on her lips, and I swallowed hard with a desire to taste her under different circumstances. The fact her eyes followed the roll of my throat sent a zing behind my zipper, and I couldn’t remember what we were discussing.

“We should probably figure out a plan.” Katie broke into my thoughts as we stood inside the gorilla exhibit, her attention drawn to the large creature cradling a baby.

“A plan?” I blinked.

“For our project. The history project. Delving into the past.” Her focus hadn’t left my face, and I had trouble thinking past the present. The here, the now, the fact I wanted to reach for her cheek and rub my thumb on her skin to see if it was as smooth as it appeared.

“The past.” How my mouth formed those words was beyond me. Nearly in a cold sweat, I shook it off as a chill from cooling down an hour before from my run and not showering yet. My hand twitched and I took in our surroundings. The space was confined, people huddled too close. Noises zoomed in and out of my hearing.

What the…?

A child screeched. The giant gorilla in the cage rushed the window. Panic seized me. I reached for Katie, placing myself between the window and her, my back to the gargantuan animal. I pressed her against my chest, braced for a collision, holding my breath as I melded her to me.

“Levi.” The sound came to me as if underwater, as if in a dream. Warmth caressed my neck, tickling, scratching, as if struggling to get free. I released my hold, attempting to swat at my throat, when my hand hit something solid. The impact wasn’t hard, but the object was.