Evanescent Ink (Copperline #4) (23 page)

And it pulled words out of me that I didn’t even know were true until I said them.

“I’d do anything for her.”

Raven didn’t say much of anything on the way back to Ophir. Neither did I. We just sat lost in our thoughts as we traveled through the crisp, winter morning back to her apartment.

When we got there, I got out of the truck and waited as Raven slid out on my side. I followed her inside her little place, unsure what to do, but wanting to do something to ease the shock and despondency that enveloped her. She set her purse on the counter and began to pull off her coat.

“You don’t have to stay.” Her voice was emotionless. Flat and empty.

“It’s okay. I can.”

“It’s Monday. You’ve probably got appointments.”

“I'll call Neil, let him know I'll reschedule. I'll tell him the same for you.”

A wry, sour twist touched her lips. “Because I’m sleeping with the boss. He'll love that.”

“I really don’t think he cares, but neither one of us should be working today after the night we’ve had. Especially you.”

“I'll be okay,” she shrugged. “It’s not like my mom and I were close. I just need some sleep.”

Something about her stance, about the cool remoteness of her voice, touched a nerve in me. She was clearly trying to get rid of me, and that knowledge squeezed in my chest, making it hard to breathe.

“You
want
me to go.” It was more of a question even if it sounded like a statement.

“I want to be alone,” Raven replied.

Her curt words cut into my lungs. I knew she was hurting, but the lack of emotion made me want to say something bitter. Something to shake her out of this stony-eyed demeanor. I’d just spent the night comforting her. She’d been sobbing on my shoulder, allowing me to shelter her vulnerability and give her my strength.

And now, she was telling me to leave.

Rejected again.

I nodded and turned back to the door without a word. I took one last look at her, but she didn’t move. She didn’t speak. She just stood there frozen and empty.

So I did what she told me to. I left.

I went back outside and got it my truck. I started it up, revving the engine a time or two in my frustration. I stared at her little apartment built onto the end of the garage and let the dejected anger course through my veins. I put my truck in gear and started backing out.

As I turned the steering wheel, I saw just the faintest hint of the tat on my forearm. The tat I’d started and she’d finished. I pushed up my sleeve.

Love heals.

Fuck.

All at once, it occurred to me that this little act was just exactly that… an act. A front Raven threw up to keep people at arm’s length. A way to protect herself from rejection and betrayal and heartache. Maybe a test, even.

A test I almost failed.

I was being a dick.

So instead of peeling out in the alley, of romping on the gas to express my annoyance, I pulled back into the parking space. I turned off the truck and sent a text to Neil, telling him some bad shit had gone down, so Raven and I wouldn’t be in that day.

Then I went back to her door. I didn’t knock. I simply walked in to see she hadn’t even moved. She still stood there with her zipper halfway down on her coat, frozen in place.

But she had tears streaming down her cheeks.

I walked over to stand in front of her. She kept her eyes tightly closed, unsuccessfully fighting back the tears.

“You don’t always have to be so strong,” I said softly.

She kept her eyes closed, and her voice was so faint I could barely hear it, even standing as close as I was. “I can’t just fall apart. There’s nobody to catch me.”

“What about me?”

“You’ve got your own issues to deal with. You don’t need mine, too.”

I reached out to cup her cheek and leaned in. Her body trembled, stiff and rife with tension.

“Let me be strong for you, Rave.”

For a moment, I thought she would push me away.

But cautiously wrapping her in my arms, I absorbed the pent up emotion vibrating through her body. She finally released a broken sob and melted into my chest. She internally fought it. She struggled against it, but she did it all the same. Her face dipped into my dress coat and fingers clutched at the lapels while she cried, and I just held her.

I tried to give her some of the strength and comfort she’d always given me.

And she let me.

She looked up after some time had passed. The remnants of her wedding makeup still shadowed dark around her eyes. Through the sex and the sleep and the tears. Her lashes were spiky, and her face was slightly blotchy in its paleness.

But she was so incredibly lovely to me.

She started to pull away, but took hold of my hand, leading me to her bedroom where I pulled off her coat and we kicked off our shoes. Where we lay down on her bed, still fully clothed but wrapped tightly in each other’s arms, and we just…
were
.

As I held her, she whispered quietly.

“Drew?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for coming back.” Her voice was incredibly fragile, and I pulled her just a little closer, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I'm really glad you're here.”

“There's no place else I'd rather be, Rave. No place in the world.”

I woke up what felt like hours later. Like I’d slept the day away. Glancing off to the side, I saw a clock. It was almost noon.

Very little light came through the dark plum-colored curtains, but just enough to see. Clothes were strewn about, tossed over a chair, hanging on hooks, and spilling out of built-in drawers alongside the closet. A stand-up oval mirror sat in one corner, and a bunch of necklaces and scarves were draped over the sides. The room was tiny. The bed was pushed into a corner, up against the wall on one side, and the only other furniture was a small bedside table with the alarm clock and a lamp. Her bedding consisted of a thick, warm quilt in various shades of purple and blue over dark plaid flannel sheets. The mattress was firm, yet incredibly cushiony. It was by far the most comfortable bed I’d ever slept on in my life. I didn’t ever want to get up.

But I was in Raven’s room, and Raven was nowhere to be seen. At first, I panicked a little. I wondered if she’d taken off, but then realized I could smell the faint scent of her shampoo and slight humidity in the air, as though she’d recently showered. It mingled with the rich aroma of coffee brewing in the small kitchenette area of the main room.

So I pulled myself out of the warmth of the flannel sheets and instantly felt the chill in the air. I still wore the black shirt and jeans from the wedding. The jacket lay on the floor by the bed, and I hadn’t the foggiest idea what had become of the tie at this point.

I stepped through Raven’s bedroom door to see a small bathroom across the narrow hallway, so I stopped there to take a piss and wash up a little, using a dab of toothpaste on my finger to get the taste of sleep out of my mouth. I still looked pretty rough, but I didn’t really care much. Plus, I really needed to get out to the living room to gauge what Raven I’d be dealing with today.

I saw her the second I came down the hall, leaning up against the kitchen counter.

“Do you want some coffee?” she asked quietly.

But I couldn’t answer. I couldn’t talk.

Because here in front of me stood Raven, a whole new one that I had never seen before.

No makeup. No dramatic steampunk outfit. She wore only a thin-strapped camisole and a pair of boy shorts, and her damp hair fell around her shoulders like deep purple silk.

And her eyes were hazel.

Raven without her mask.

Holy hell.

My heart beat wildly in my chest as I took a few steps towards her, studying her closely, awed by the natural beauty of her features. She was always stunning, but always a little too perfect. Too secure in appearance. This Raven looked slightly delicate. This Raven seemed just a touch out of control. Her stance, the look in her eyes, it all drew me to her. I suddenly only wanted to hold her.

My fingers cupped her jaw, and her breath caught. I felt a tremor run through her, making her seem so fragile. So real and emotional and…
right
.

With my free hand, I took the coffee she had offered and set it on the counter behind her. Then I cradled her face in my palms and studied her intently. I watched as her eyes dilated slightly. Her skin shivered under my touch. Her lips fell open to release the faintest gasp.

“Raven,” I whispered, and she trembled. “You’re not wearing your mask.”

She began to tip her head down, her eyes fluttering closed, but I caught her movements and held her still.

“You’re beautiful,” I continued.

Because she was. She always was, with her facade… and without it.

I lightly touched my lips to hers. Something had happened last night. Something that bound her to me in a way I’d never imagined. With a faint gasp, she kissed me back. Tentative and almost shy. So incredibly vulnerable that I’d have never believed it was her if I wasn’t living that moment.

She tasted of creamy coffee and felt like pure honesty in my arms. Her kiss was full of warmth and sincerity as her fingertips skated up my chest to rest at my neck. Every breath we shared drew us closer together until I couldn’t fathom letting her go.

I really didn’t mean to go out there and jump on her, but her response to my kiss enraptured me. The tenderness pulled at my heart, building and growing until I lifted her against me. Her legs wrapped around my hips while I carried her back down the hall to the bed. The world around us seemed surreal. Magical. Meant to be.

As slivers of light filtered through the dark curtains, I freed her from her top and shorts. I worshipped the delicate curves of her body, the lines of ink along her hip and stomach. I caressed and tasted her hardened nipples, tugging gently at the rings, and trailed my lips down between her legs where I licked and stroked her deep within. Her body practically became fluid beneath me, languid and boneless while I reveled her sweetness. In the tight grasp of her fingers pulling at my hair. In the burst of flavor on my tongue when she came.

Rising back up to cover her body with my own, a tenderness unlike anything I’d ever experienced swelled in my chest. I cradled her beneath me, resting the weight of my body on my elbows. Gently, I lowered my lips to ghost against hers and felt a rush of her breath as I slowly explored her kiss with a faint swipe of my tongue. In between long, dreamlike kisses, our fingers tangled to unbutton my shirt and to rid me of my jeans.

I braced her hips with my hand and began to push inside her with an agonizing slowness. Filling her just the tiniest bit at a time, torturing both her and myself with every pull of my apa in her tight, wet heat. My lips grazed hers, not quite a kiss, but to share the air that escaped our lungs in stilted puffs. To taste every tremble of her lips and to feel every moan.

When I was finally fully inside her, I felt like I had come home.

I made love to her. I needed her and wanted her. My sweet Raven. Somewhere in all this, she had become everything to me. I tried to tell her that with every brush of my fingertips on her cheek, with every stroke of my body inside her. Slow and sweet and together. Nothing else mattered but her in my arms. Her in my heart.