…
I spent Saturday morning with my mom. We had a greasy, artery-killing breakfast at IHOP and then wasted a couple of hours dollar-store shopping. Usually I’d rather pluck my eyelashes out than meander those aisles, but I wanted to spend time with her.
Tonight, Daemon and I were meeting Blake—only us, per his request. Matthew and Andrew were going to play parking-lot spies as backup, since Dee and Dawson, for very different reasons, had been banned from coming within a mile of the place.
There was no telling what was going to happen, though. This could be my last Saturday, my last anything with my mom. And that made the whole experience bittersweet and scary. So many times over breakfast and while in the car I wanted to tell her what was going on, but I couldn’t. And even if I could, the words probably wouldn’t have come out. She was having fun—thrilled to spend time with me—and I couldn’t bring myself to ruin it.
But the what-ifs haunted me. What if this were a trap? What if the DOD or Daedalus took us in? What if I became Beth and my mom never heard from me again? What if she moved back to Gainesville to escape the memory of me?
By the time we got home, I was pretty sure I was going to hurl. My stomach twisted and turned around the food. It was so bad that I went to lie down while Mom got some sleep before her shift started.
About an hour of staring at the wall later, Daemon texted and I responded, telling him to let himself in. No sooner had I hit send than I felt warmth shooting across the back of my neck and I rolled toward the door.
Daemon made no sound as he eased my door open and slid though, a wicked glint in his eyes. “Your mom’s asleep?”
I nodded.
His gaze searched my face, and then he shut the door behind him. A heartbeat later, he was sitting beside me, brows drawn tight. “You’re worried.”
How he knew was beyond me. I started to tell him that I wasn’t worried, because I hated the idea of him stressing out over me or thinking I was weak, but I didn’t want to be strong right now. I needed comfort—I wanted him. “Yeah, a little.”
He smiled. “It’s going to be okay. No matter what, I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
Daemon ran the tips of his fingers down my cheek, and I realized then that I could have both. I could freak out a little on the inside and need him, but I could still be strong enough to get up at six and meet our fate head-on. I could be both.
God, I needed a little of both.
Wordlessly, I scooted over, giving him room. Daemon slid under the covers, throwing a heavy arm over my waist. I curled against him, resting my head under his chin, my hands folded on his chest. Using my fingers, I drew a heart above his, and he chuckled.
We lay there for a couple of hours. Sometimes talking and laughing quietly, making sure we didn’t wake my mom. For a while, we dozed together and then I’d wake, tangled in his arms and legs. Other times, we kissed and the kissing…well, it took up most of the time.
He was just so damn good at it.
My lips felt swollen as he grinned at me, his lids heavily hooded, but behind those lashes, his eyes were like the color of dewy spring grass. Along the nape of his neck, his hair curled. I loved running my fingers through it, straightening the strands out and watching them spring back into place. And he liked when I played with it. Closing his eyes, he tilted his head to the side so I got better access, much like a cat stretching to be petted.
Ah, the little things in life.
Daemon caught my hand as I slid it around, over the thick muscles in his neck. He brought my palm to his lips. My heart did the flutter thing, and then he kissed me again…and again. His hand moved to my hip, his fingers curling into the denim before slipping under the hem of my shirt, causing my pulse to pound through me. He rolled over me, his weight doing crazy things to my stomach.
As his hand crept up, my back arched. “Daemon—”
His mouth silenced whatever it was that I was going to say, and my brain emptied. There was just him and me. What we had to do later simply disappeared off my worry radar. I moved, throwing a leg over his and my—
Footsteps trotted down the hall.
Daemon faded out above me, reappearing at my desk chair. Grinning shamelessly, he picked up a book as I fixed myself.
“Book’s upside down,” I taunted, smoothing my hand over my hair.
Laughing under his breath, he turned it over and cracked it open. With seconds to spare, Mom knocked on the door and then opened it. Her eyes shot from the bed to the chair.
“Hello, Ms. Swartz,” Daemon said. “You look well-rested.”
I shot him a look and then clamped my hand over my mouth, stifling my giggles. He’d picked up one of the historical romance novels with the bodice-ripping, barrel-chested covers.
Mom arched a brow. Her expression basically read WTF, and I almost lost it. “Good evening, Daemon.” She turned to me, eyes narrowing.
Codpiece? Daemon mouthed, rolling his eyes.
“Bedroom door, Katy.” Mom headed back to the door. “You know the rules.”
“Sorry. We didn’t want to wake you.”
“How considerate, but it stays open.”
When her footsteps receded, Daemon chucked the book at my head. I raised my hand, stopping it so that it hovered, and snatched it out of the air. “Nice reading material.”
His eyes narrowed. “Shut up.”
I giggled.
…
There was no laughter as we pulled into Smoke Hole Diner’s parking lot a little before six. Looking over my shoulder, I saw Matthew’s SUV parked in the back. I seriously hoped he and Andrew paid attention.