Last To Know

22

My first thought upon waking was: Man, Maddox's chest actually makes a really good pillow.

I smiled, slowly blinking my eyes open. He was already awake, smoothing his fingers through my tangled hair.

"Morning," he grinned, kissing the end of my nose.

"Mmm," I hummed, reveling in the feel of his fingers skimming my bare back, "morning."

I cuddled closer to him, burrowing against his side. I never wanted to move from this spot or his arms. Seriously, I would've been content to stay right here forever as long as someone brought us food. Maybe we could sweet talk Mathias into being our butler—although he'd probably try to kill us in our sleep.

"How do you feel?" Maddox asked, taking my chin between his fingers and tilting my head up so I met his eyes.

I stretched my stiff muscles, taking inventory of how I felt. I didn't feel profoundly different like I'd had some sort of awakening. I still felt like me, just a little sore, and happy and in love.

"Amazing." It was the honest to God truth.

"Good," he rubbed his forehead against mine, his hair tickling me. "I was afraid I might've hurt you."

I shook my head rapidly. "No, no. Everything was perfect." Because of you, was what I left unsaid.

Maddox had been kind and gentle with me, his patience endless. Last night had been far more than I'd ever expected for my first time. It wasn't something I pictured often, but when I did it was usually dark and awkward and the worst thing ever. But with Maddox it had been so much more and I knew it was because we truly loved each other. That fact alone changed everything.

I splayed my hand on his chest, then began drawing random designs.

I knew that no matter how much I didn't want to leave our fort I was going to have to go home. If my mom was aware I hadn't come home last night I was surprised she hadn't already shown up here knocking down doors. I mean, she was more lenient than a lot of moms, but she was still a mom, so I knew she wouldn't be thrilled about me sleeping over at Maddox's. And she'd probably have a heart attack if she knew what we did. Yeah, parents were probably—okay, definitely—aware of what most teenagers were up to, but it didn't mean they wanted that information thrown in their face.

"I should probably go home," I whispered, almost afraid to voice the words out loud.

Maddox grasped my hand—the one I'd been using to doodle on his stomach—and entwined our fingers together.

"You're right—" I deflated at his words even though it should've been better that he was agreeing with me. "—But I'm making you breakfast before you go."

"Can we make it together?" I asked.

He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest, which my ear was currently pressed against. The steady thump, thump, thump of his heart was quickly becoming my favorite sound in the whole world. It was like a drum that beat only for me.

"We can do whatever you want." He sat up, the blanket pooling at his waist. His eyes flicked over my body unabashedly taking me in. A blush threatened to blanket my skin but I willed it away. His lips quirked into a half smile, and he leaned down. "I love you, Em." He pressed his lips ever so softly against mine. I was beginning to think I liked these kisses more than the soul scorching ones. There was something about the tender kisses that made me feel even more loved and cherished.

I grasped his hair between my fingers, holding him against me for a moment longer. "I love you too," I whispered against his lips.

His face split into a grin.