Erasing Faith(51)

I heaved my shoulders back, set them firmly, and glowered as I watched the humor fade from his eyes. His face went from smiling to stony in a matter of seconds, morphing into the closed-off expression I was unfortunately becoming quite familiar with. I didn’t let it deter me, this time. If he threw up his walls, so be it. I had things to say, damn it.

“I say I’m sorry a lot. I mess up. I’m stubborn as hell. I babble and over-analyze and make a big deal about things that shouldn’t matter. I have a potty mouth and I hate to cook and if it were socially acceptable, I’d wear pajamas every day and never brush my hair. I’m not a trophy or a prize or anyone’s freaking cup of tea.” I swallowed roughly. “But you don’t seem to care about any of that. For the first time in my life, I feel like I don’t have to put on an act. I can just be me and, for some crazy reason, you put up with me anyway.”

I blinked away tears as I held his gaze, determined to remain strong.

His reaction was barely detectable, unless you knew him — which, thankfully, I did well enough to look for the slight clenching of his jaw as he fought back whatever words were forcing their way to the surface. I didn’t let his silence bother me. I pushed on, past the bullshit, past the boundaries.

“I have my flaws. I’m fully aware of them. All my cards are there, on the table. I’m an open freaking book!” I took a deep breath. “But you! You are the most impossible, guarded, closed-off, challenging person I’ve ever known. You pull me in and push me away. You play games with my head, even if it’s not intentional. You don’t want me to worry about you, to care about you — well, too damn bad, Wes. I care about you.”

I stepped closer and felt my heart turn over when, for a single moment, his guard fell and fear flashed in his eyes.

“I care about you,” I said softly. “Why can’t you just let me?”

He was silent for a long time, his jaw working as he warred with himself. I looked at him and I saw the terrified street-kid, alone in the dark. Afraid to trust, afraid to love. Never letting down his guard or opening up to anyone. I tried desperately to hold onto my anger, but I felt it slipping away as my eyes moved over his face.

He was a man lost in shadows.

I knew I might never be able to pull him to the light. But, for now, I’d gladly slip into the darkness and keep him company there. I’d find him in the pitch-black night and wrap him in my arms until morning came.

He just had to let me.

His gaze finally lifted to meet mine, and I held my breath when I saw the intense emotions burning there. His voice was hushed, fervent.

“All my life, even when I was with other people, I was alone. I’ve never, not even for a second, known who I was.” He paused, cleared his throat, and moved a fraction of a step closer to me. His voice dropped even lower, but lost none of its passion. “That was until I met you.”

I felt a breath slip through my lips as he took the final step and closed the gap between our bodies. I squeezed my eyes shut so I wouldn’t cry as I felt the last bit of anger fall away.

“I know I’m a bastard, Red. I’m sorry I didn’t call. I’m sorry I didn’t show up. I’ve been sorry since the moment I left you.” His hand came up to cup my face and I felt his fingers tremble a bit as they landed on my skin. “But, the thing is… I’m hoping you’ll forgive me anyway.”

I opened my eyes so I could look at him. He was watching my face, his expression filled with fragile hope. In a deliberate move, I leaned my cheek into his touch, so he was supporting my face with the span of his hand. He knew I forgave him.

Sometimes, actions speak louder.

“See, I’m about to go on this adventure,” Wes whispered, the beginnings of a smile on his lips. “And I’ve realized they’re a hell of a lot more fun when you’re with me.”

He held out his free hand for me to take and my eyes snagged immediately on his knuckles. They were split and swollen. Terribly bruised, like he’d been on the losing end of a bar fight. I wanted to ask what had happened, but I held back.

I could’ve walked away. Could’ve turned my back on him and gone on alone, angry and unsatisfied. But holding a grudge against Wes wouldn’t make me happy. The only thing that might do that was spending time with him.

So, I slipped my hand into his, careful not to squeeze his injured knuckles.

“Take me for a ride?” I asked in a terrible imitation of Anna’s most seductive voice.

Wes laughed, laced his fingers through mine, and pulled me into his arms. I sighed as they tightened around me, content for the first time in three days. No matter what he did, it didn’t change the fact that being with him was always better than life in his absence.

***

We went on an adventure, as Wes had promised.

I was beginning to learn that he wasn’t the stay-home-and-watch-old-movies-in-our-pajamas-all-day type. He didn’t do lazy — there was too much adrenaline pumping in his veins for that. He was a thrill-seeker, the ultimate danger-junkie. I couldn’t help but wonder why this lover of all things risky and heart-racing wanted me — an admitted coward and scaredy cat — as his companion. But, as long as he let me tag along, I wasn’t going to question it.

He drove his motorcycle far too fast as we left Budapest behind and merged onto one of the main highways. It was the first time I’d left the city proper since my arrival in the country. I was a little nervous as I watched the spires and hills of the capital fade from view, especially since Wes refused to give me so much as a single hint as to where we were going.