Written In The Stars: Book Two

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT: BETTER THAN MEMORIES

"You and Kevin looked like you were getting along," Madeline noted as she sat at the dining table, watching him make dinner.

Elijah sprinkled the soy sauce, brown sugar, and cornstarch into a glass bowl and stirred until the mixture smoothed out. "He's a good guy. I was kind of a dick to him yesterday, but I'm grateful he tried again."

"A dick? You?" Madeline teased. "Never."

After he stirred in the red pepper flakes, garlic and ginger, Elijah added the chicken he'd cut up into the bowl, and lightly tossed with his hands until the chicken was fully coated. "In my defense, they gave me zero warning he'd be there. I don't like surprises, and I'd been getting hit with that crap all goddamn week."

"Speaking of surprises," Madeline began, "Did you mean what you said earlier? About wanting a family?"

Elijah turned to face the love of his life. If her parents heard what he had to say from the living room, so be it. "We've slept next to each other every night since you came to stay here, and every night I've had a dream that you were pregnant, or that we had a little girl with eyes like mine, and curls like yours. Every damn night. Not a nightmare, but a dream.

"That's what sleeping next to you does. You chase away my nightmares, and you let me dream. And every morning when I wake up, it's with this sort of peace I can't describe. I didn't just say what I said out of fear of losing you again. I said it because this second chance is making me want more for myself."

Elijah went washed his hands, went over to the skillet that was already sizzling with oil, and dropped the vegetable mix in.

"So, you've more or less proposed to me, told me you wanna put a baby in me, but you still haven't kissed me," Madeline noted aloud with a coyness in her tone. "I'm not sure you fully grasp how this works."

He couldn't hold in his laughter, and didn't so much as try. It was true. While he couldn't rush anything with Madeline due to her physical state, he was most definitely rushing his intentions with her. But he vowed to be completely open with her this time around, and it was all liberating to say aloud. "I proposed a future proposal," Elijah countered. "When I actually propose, you'll know, because I'll have a ring and everything."

"So fancy," Madeline teased behind him.

Since he had a minute or two before he had to return his concentration to dinner, Elijah went over and sat next to Madeline. "Madeline Martin, would you like to go out on a date with me tomorrow night?"

Her damn face lit up, and that giant smile reminded him so much of the first time he'd seen her smile at him. It only lasted for a few moments before her gaze fell to the table and she bit her lip. "Geez, I don't know. I'm so busy these days."

Fuck it. If dinner burned, so be it. He could always order in.

Elijah tipped her chin up, brushed the back of his fingers against her cheek, then moved his hand to the back of her neck to pull her into a kiss.

Her lips were that single perfectly contained memory, where all your senses come back as you think about it. The way her skin smelled, the taste of her chapstick, the warmth of her skin, the feel of her hair between his fingers, the small sigh escaping her as their kiss deepened. They were perfectly made for each other. No amount of time or space could ever erase this feeling she gave him. That undeniable bliss.

He remembered the first time they kissed. The feeling of her warm body against him, his heart damn near pounding out of his chest. He remembered leaving a trail of kisses against the skin of her neck. It was the first time he'd heard her whimper, and that sound was like the perfect melody he wanted to play on repeat for the rest of his life. Elijah remembered his icy hand against her flat stomach, and how she'd inched it just a little higher, telling him aloud and in her own silent way that she wanted him.

It'd been agony having to leave that bed to go help Jay. He was so close to kissing her before that he could practically taste her chapstick on his lips. But when he did finally kiss her, it was everything he never realized a kiss could be.

How in the hell her lips topped that feeling now, he'd never know. But when Madeline opened her mouth, once again silently telling him what she wanted, Elijah gave her exactly what she asked for and skimmed his tongue against her own. He wasn't able to kiss her as hard as he wanted to, or press himself against her body as he'd done before, but he could kiss her with conviction.

That whimper of hers came back, and Elijah nearly lost it. But the sizzling in the pot and his phone buzzing against the table brought them both back to reality. As much as he wanted to kiss her forever, Madeline's parents were in the next room with no door in between them. Still, once Elijah separated from the kiss, he took a moment just to look at her.

Madeline's bruises had faded during the week since the accident, now only a pale shade of yellow painting her skin. She was so damn beautiful, it almost hurt him to look at her for too long. If Lady Luck hadn't stepped in, if their stars had given up, death could have ripped her away from him forever.

"I missed us," Madeline whispered.

"Me too, sweetheart."