His lips trail down my neck, sending shivers all over.
"I love looking at you," he breathes, brushing the hair off my shoulders. "Will you let me look at you?"
My heart hammers, a wild thing seeking his. "Yes."
So he does. And I feel it. For a long...
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—————————————— "If there were no words to speak, I'd still hear you." ——————————————
C A M I L A
I've never had a boyfriend for Valentine's Day (I'd never had a boyfriend at all). I had no idea what to do for this day, so I asked Fox.
Fox said, "Go hang out with his family in Thamesbridge. Jacky makes a killer red velvet cake."
I said, "Fuck yeah, best idea ever."
Anyway, Noah and I got ready, bundled up for the cold, and then there was Fox flipping medical cue cards at the kitchen island. Alone.
Long story short, all three of us are cutting out hearts from construction paper around the fireplace at Noah's place. Fox's bags are up in Dayo's room, much to Day's chagrin. I have no idea where the little ones went. I think they gave us this task and then abandoned us.
A Charlie Brown Valentine is playing on the TV. That was Azi's choice. In moments like these, it's easy to forget anything bad has ever happened to any of us.
The frost-laced windows throw everything in shades of rose and white, and it smells exactly like a bakery in here. Jacky, wearing a pink sweater with embroidered roses, insisted on teaching Dayo to bake heart-shaped cookies. He's just lounging at the counter, eating the first batch while she mutters about something in French that makes him roll his eyes.
My boyfriend sighs again. It's the dramatic sigh that's meant to make me look at him. But if I do, I'll leave my post as Folder and kiss him. Mabel will kill me.
Instead, I glance at Fox, his bottom lip between his teeth as he cuts the curve on another red heart, 100% concentrated, 100% just happy to be here.
Noah gags, then falls to the ground pretending to be dead from boredom. Firelight plays off his handsome face, his scar, his lips.
I wish his dad was still here. Maybe it's selfish, but there's so much I want to ask him. But Noah's the closest I'll ever get to knowing what Davu Bello was like.
Jacky's voice rings out from the kitchen. "Noah! Frost with Dayo!" She's pulling cookies off the sheet, her fingers wrapped in a pink oven mitt. Dayo mumbles something about hating hearts but picks up a frosting bag anyway.
I bite down a grin. "Go frost cookies with your brother, baby."
Noah huffs at the ceiling and then pushes up off the ground with a sound that's more for a fifty-year-old fellow, and not a young man.
That leaves Fox and me to handle the crafts. There's a part of him drifting somewhere else, somewhere quieter, maybe colder.
I hand Fox another piece of folded construction paper. "It's fine, you know. If this day fucking sucks, it's okay."
