Broken Charms

Can't Let Go: Part Seven

“...the devil on my right shoulder must have brutally strangled the angel on my left...”

― Gena Showalter, Playing with Fire

Harry

I was playing with fire, touching her like this. My hand was resting just above the curve of her behind, and I swear she arched her hips back into my palm. My voice was low and rough as I said, “All done.”

If I were a superstitious man, I would think I’d angered Milo’s alcohol gods because I was having a very inconvenient reaction to our closeness. I moved my hand, and was ready to make a quick getaway, but she sat up and said, “Wait, let me do you.”

I tried to keep a straight face, I really did. But no male in my condition, whether he’s fifteen or fifty, could hear those words and not react. She rolled her eyes and said, “Your head, Harry. The one that’s supposed to do your thinking.”

God, she was so different. She wasn’t the same girl I had fallen in love with. Maybe giving up dancing was the right choice after all. Astrid was now honest. Unafraid. She was so comfortable in her skin. And it was sexy as hell.

“Let me get a new cloth.” She stood and took the washcloth and water into the kitchen with her. I sat on the couch, and did my best to adjust myself so that my predicament wasn’t glaringly obvious. I’d tried to talk her out of the song because I thought it was a bad idea. I thought it would bring up memories of how we used to be but it didn’t. In fact, singing it hadn’t made me think of our past  at all. I could only think about the present, and that caused an entirely different problem than the one I’d expected.

I kept my eyes focused forward when she returned because I didn’t trust myself not to touch her again. She pulled one of her knees up onto the couch, and slid closer to me. Her knee pressed against my thigh, and all I wanted to do was grab her other leg and lift her over onto my lap.

I searched for something, anything, to distract me, but there was nothing in this apartment to look at. There was only us and the electrifying heat that filled the space between us. Her fingers touched my chin, and she turned my face toward her. She was staring at a wound on my forehead, so I had a few seconds to drink her in without getting caught. Her cheeks were flushed, probably from the pain, and her lips pulled down into a frown as she surveyed my injury. And her eyes were the kind of light green that you only see on wild, untouched forests.

“I should have taken care of you first. You’re still bleeding a little.” I was? It didn’t even hurt anymore. There were too many other things on my mind. Her fingers shifted on my chin, brushing across the stubble that I hadn’t bothered to shave this morning. Her eyes met mine for a flicker of a second before she pulled away and began dipping the washcloth in the water. I watched her small hands and delicate fingers as they wrung out the rag, and then folded it into a small rectangle. She slid even closer when she turned back to me, so that her knee was almost resting on top of my leg. I was already facing her, but her hand found my jaw anyway. She cleaned the area around the wound first, and then started dabbing at the cut just along my hairline.

She used the hand on my jaw to tilt my head down slightly to give her a better look. It pointed my eyes straight to the delicate architecture of her collarbone, which had been the last place I’d kissed her. I was dying to pick back up again where I left off. That must not have been enough to give her a good look because she shifted, and rose up on her knees next to me. Her chest was level with my gaze, and her body swayed toward mine. I closed my eyes and thought about multiplication tables and lyrics from songs that I’d been in over the years. Her breath fanned across my forehead, and I could feel the warmth of her skin only inches away from mine. She stopped dabbing and just pressed the cloth to my forehead, probably to stop the bleeding. Her voice was low and warm when she said,

“You wrote that song for me?”

“Yes, is that obvious?” She laughed, and I wanted to sweep her into my arms, lay her down on this couch, and map out every bit of her skin with my mouth. I wanted to taste every tattoo, and be reminded of what they meant to her. I wanted to unlock the secrets that lay behind her guarded expression.

“No, I just mean . . . When we were together?” I shook my head. “No, afterwards. I just wanted to let you know how I felt. I had hoped that when you listened to the song you would know how much I had loved you?”

“you had loved me? as in you don’t love me anymore?” This was not what I wanted to talk about, but I guess if it kept my mind off of kissing her, it worked.

“I do, just the way I used to. it’s different. I care about you and I want to near you. I don’t want to lose you are my lucky charm after all.

“Yes, I get that feeling.” I smiled

“it could never be the same again, couldn’t it?” I asked.

She shrugged and my eyes caught on the smooth line of her neck.

“Yeah, maybe that is a good thing.” She smiled and I smiled back with an optimism that surprised me.

It felt good to be able to smile about this her. I hadn’t even been able to do that with any of my friends and family. She was still smiling when she lifted the cloth from my forehead. She hummed and said, “Looks good.”

She sat back, and the hand on my face dropped to my thigh. She used it to brace herself as she reached for the gauze. Sweet Jesus. I searched for something, anything to say. “It’s been an . . . interesting day.” Considering I’d just came into her life again uninvited, and I had just kick a guy’s ass for her. I’d say the day had been pretty damn interesting.

“Tomorrow will make today look like a cakewalk,” she said. She cut a piece of gauze, and raised back up on her knees to place it on my head.

“Why? What it’s tomorrow?” She pressed tape to the edges of the bandage and started smoothing it down, and her other hand rested on my shoulder for balance.

“the results of  my father’s biopsy come out tomorrow.”

“oh!” I managed to say. She reached for the rag again and started cleaning more blood off my face. With her eyes focused on her work, she said, “yeah, if the results are bad and then he would be scheduled to have a surgery and then more tests  but if they are good then he might be just fine. But the previous biopsy wasn’t that good.”

“Don’t worry, Astrid. I’m sure everything would be okay.” Her eyes met mine for a few seconds. I brought my hand up and placed it over hers that rested on my shoulder. She looked down at me, and her eyes searched mine. “Normally, I hate it when people say that, but . . .”

The damp rag skimmed across my cheek to the cut on my mouth. Her eyes were dark, and her lips parted. She dabbed at the cut carefully. I watched the movement of her throat as she swallowed. Slowly, so slowly that it felt like a dream, her hand turned so that the backs of her knuckles trailed across my lips. Her eyes were open and clear. We were both sober. One of my hands found her hip, and her chest brushed against my shoulder as she leaned over me.

I could feel her breath on my lips, and her eyes were dilated with desire. She bit her lip, and I held in a groan. Her eyes dropped to my lips, and the rag dropped to the floor.

Then her phone rang. She jumped back so quickly that she was across the room before I’d released the breath that had been caught in my chest.

She picked up her phone, and her expression was blank as she said, “It’s my father.”

I swallowed, but my mouth still felt as dry as the desert. The universe was doing us both a favor. Kissing her earlier had been bad enough.

“I should be going anyway.”

I crossed to the door as quickly as possible, and she called back to me, “Harry!” I pulled the door open wide, and looked back at her. She held the phone in her hand, ready to answer. She said, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m not.” She took a small step toward me, and I turned. “Call me if you need me. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I said and left. as I raised my hand for a taxi and during the entire ride to my hotel all I could think was that now I was back in her life and I wasn’t going to let her go.  What a night!