Space (Laws of Physics #2)(66)

I flinched, stunned, blinking rapidly, feeling like I’d been slapped. Holding my breath for a moment so I couldn’t—so I won’t—yell, are you fucking kidding me right now?

Instead, I waited. I stalled. I tried to think of as many words as possible that rhymed with regret—which ironically included bet—and then I switched to the word resentment.

I waited until the edges of my vision cleared, and then I did my best to match my volume to hers, since what I really wanted—what I really fucking wanted—was to rage. “But you didn’t. You didn’t tell me.”

How different would things be now if I’d just finished that damn race? She’d been winning. She was so fast and fierce, and it had turned me on to the point of torment. I hadn’t wanted to fight with her any more. I’d wanted to lift her to the edge of the pool, pull the tie on that flimsy bikini, and taste her, make her come with my mouth and fingers, right there. And then I’d—

Stop.

Back up.

Take a deep breath.

Shit.

There was no hiding from that night. I’d dreamt about her and that night many, many times; and we did many, many things in those dreams; but none of those things included fighting.

“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t win. You forfeited and I didn’t earn the right to tell you,” she said, making it sound entirely reasonable in retrospect. But at the time, she’d been angry. She’d been furious.

I didn’t earn the right. . . My bones ached, my breath became shallow with the effort. What happened to her to make her this way? Make her think she wasn’t deserving? That she needed to earn the right to tell the truth and take what she wanted? And what would’ve happened if I’d pushed her?

What if I’d kissed her? What if I had lifted her to the edge and untied the bikini? What if I hadn’t been patient?

And what does this mean for us, now?

Mona’s shoulders were stiff, and she seemed to take a few deep breaths before returning to the range and to me. She didn’t look at me. She served the hot chocolate and handed me my cup first.

“Thank you,” I said quietly, my fury slowly morphing to frustration, and then to grief.

Looking at her now, at her lovely face, so deserving of every beautiful, wonderful thing, I couldn’t help but think back to real Lisa, not Mona-as-Lisa, and what she’d told me about making other people happy.

They have to do that for themselves, she’d said. Was she right? I had no idea. I hoped not.

Setting aside my mug, I took Mona’s cup from her hand, drawing her hesitant and beautiful gaze to mine. I wrapped her in my arms and placed a lingering kiss on her neck. I held her tightly and I stroked her back.

“You deserve everything,” I whispered.

Instead of relaxing, she held me tighter.

I hoped Lisa was wrong. I hoped, if you love someone enough, it was possible to show them what they deserved, and be their source of happiness.





16





Atomic Masses





*Mona*





I awoke to the sound of a heartbeat, and I smiled.

Blinking open my eyes, I carefully lifted my head from Abram’s chest, doing my best to make as little noise or movement as possible while propping my chin on my palm and gazing down at him. He was divine. And he was 100 percent asleep.

What time did he come to bed?

After hot chocolate, the conversation had become much lighter and easier. I hypothesized Abram was trying to stay away from heavy topics after grilling me about whether I paid for my own school and whether my family reciprocated birthday gifts. They didn’t, but I honestly didn’t mind. I was a hard person to buy gifts for—as my sister and my mom’s personal assistant in charge of shopping had told me countless times—and I appreciated the fact that they didn’t send me things just to send me something.

It was fine. I was fine.

And I was grateful he’d dropped the topic. I’d wanted to spend time with him, get to know him, not discuss my family.

We’d talked about so many things, including how I didn’t like cereal, or anything that grows soggy, and that my favorite element on the periodic table was sodium. Then, he’d made a periodic table Chuck Norris joke, and I’d laughed with more gusto than I’d expected, surprising myself. Which led him to telling his entire arsenal of Chuck Norris jokes for at least a half hour. I laughed so hard my face hurt.

Lila came in at that point to start dinner and Abram asked her if she could make ours to go. That earned him a look from me.

“What?” he’d asked, drinking the rest of his hot chocolate, his gorgeous brown eyes dancing.

“If we’re both missing, people are going to notice.”

“Let them notice.” He placed a soft kiss on my forehead, followed by another on my cheek, and then the corner of my mouth, his beard brushing against my face. Holy particle accelerator, Batman. My stomach fluttered mercilessly.

And then he’d followed up the kissy-face treatment with, “I only want to be with you.”

He was too good with the words. Damn poet.

I glanced at Lila, who was trying not to be too obvious about watching us. Regardless, I felt myself smile.

We had our meal in the solarium on the second floor, just the two of us, but I made a point to leave a note for Allyn under her door. I wanted to give her a heads up. She’d integrated with the group just fine, genuinely seemed to be having a good time, but still. I’d been the one to invite her. I worried I was being a bad friend leaving her alone for dinner again.