The Art of Mending Memories

The Art of Mending Memories 36

The Art of Mending Memories

Chapter 36

The sound of feet walking around the house woke me from my sleep.  I lifted my head and opened my eyes, trying to decipher who it may be that was in the house—although I figured it was fairly safe to assume it was Aunt Jane.

“Oh, hey honey,” Aunt Jane greeted. “I was just at the store and I—Aaron’s still here?” She asked mid-sentence.

“Mmm?” I mumbled questioningly.

Following her gaze, I looked down at Aaron sleeping softly on the couch beside me.  I was shocked to realize out legs were touching and my hand was stealing warmth from his chest.  His hear was tousled and fell in black waves over his face.  His skin glowed faintly.

I looked back at my aunt, a knowing smile on her face. “Yeah,” I said, my gaze travelling back to Aaron. “We must have fallen asleep,” I noted.

“Mhm,” she mumbled, failing to hide her smile. “Well, when he wakes up, tell him he’s welcome to stay for dinner.”

“Okay,” I said, my hand twirling a strand of his hair around my finger.  “What are we having?”

“Pasta and chicken,” she replied over her shoulder.

I turned my attention back to the sleeping boy on my couch.  Surprisingly, he hadn’t woken yet, even with our talk and my fingers in his hair.  His breathing was steady, in a slow rhythm.  I moved my hand up his chest, loving the feeling of his body rising and falling beneath my hand.  I moved it up to the color of his shirt, which, I realized, was actually my shirt.

My hand left Aaron’s hair.  I nudged him in the shoulder, trying to wake him up.  When he didn’t move, I nudged him harder.

“Aaron,” I called, “wake up.”

I grabbed his shoulder with the plan to gently shake him.  When my hand closed around his shoulder, his eyes flew open, flooded with the look of savagery.  He quickly grabbed my wrists with his hands and before I was aware of what was happening, my wrists were twisted around and my face was slammed into the seat of the couch.  My arms were twisted behind my back painfully and Aaron was on top of me, digging his knees into my back.

I cried out in pain. “Aaron, what the hell?”

“Kaelyn?”  He asked as I tried to wiggle out of his hold. “Oh, sorry,” he mumbled.

He let go of my wrists and I felt his presence settle at the other end of the couch.  I got up and rubbed my wrists, hoping the redness would go away.

I looked over at Aaron. “What the hell was that?”

He was looking down at his hands. “You took me by surprise,” he mumbled.

“Great,” I said with a strong sarcastic edge. “I have a boyfriend who attacks me when I try to wake him up.”

Aaron’s head snapped toward me, his eyes focused and blazing.  His red glow brightened.

“What did you say?” He asked a little breathlessly.

“Oh come on, that was definitely an attack,” I argued, assuming he was going to argue otherwise.

He shook his head. “Not that.  You called me your boyfriend.”

“Well, yeah,” I mumbled, looking down at my hands. “I figured we might as well make it official. We could always—”

I didn’t get a chance to finish my sentence.  Aaron had moved from the other side of the couch and had claimed my lips with his.  Any thoughts of what he was going to say vanished.  Only thoughts of the feel of his body against me remained.  My blood pumped through my body in a rush, like it was boiling and had nowhere to go.