Wicked Innocence (Wicked Innocence 1)

“About what?”

He tilted my chin, so that my eyes would meet his. “Tell me what’s wrong. Something happened at the refuge. You raced out and you’ve been down ever since. You know you can tell me anything.”

Can I?

Taking a deep breath, I let the words form in my head. There was so much to tell him. And I had to do it carefully. Because one slip of the tongue and everything would change.

“Nate…seeing him was a shock.” My breath caught in my chest, and every breath brought with it a burning pain. Sax waited patiently for me to continue. “I told you I had a brother who died when I was younger. He was beaten to death by a gang of kids for a pair of new shoes. Nate was a part of that gang. He was so young that he got a pretty light sentence. And I guess now he’s out.”

I let out a huff of a laugh. It was an odd reaction considering I didn’t find any of this funny, but the only reaction I could have to keep from bursting into uncontrollable sobs and breaking my heart all over again.

“Holy shit, Micah. I don’t even know what to say.” His arms curled around me as he pulled me against his chest.

I could feel the tears coming, but I needed to get all this out. “We were in a foster home. Mom had addiction issues and we’d been placed in this home with seven other kids. I was supposed to take him shopping, but I was in one of my ‘I hate the world’ moods and I told him to go on his own. So he did.”

I wiped my eyes, the memory burned in my mind forever. If only I could go back and fix things. If only I’d taken him. If only…

“Micah, it’s not your fault. Please tell me you don’t blame yourself.” He gripped my face with his hands and forced me to look at him. His eyes burned with anger.

“I did for a long time. But the worst thing was, I was hurting, and Mom wasn’t there for me.” That was the moment in my life when I’d realized things were not going to get better unless I did something to make them better.

“And now?”

“I don’t blame myself. But I still wonder what would have happened if I’d been there with him. Maybe I could’ve stopped it, or maybe I could’ve gotten the ambulance there faster.”

“Poor girl,” he whispered, leaning his head against mine. He reached up and wiped away my tears with the tip of his finger. “My poor, sweet girl. You’re stronger than you think, Micah. You’ve been through so much, and look at you. Look how far you’ve come.”

I closed my eyes and rested my head against his chest, focusing on the beating of his heart.

I don’t feel very strong right now. I felt weak, and ashamed. But most of all, I felt afraid that I was on the verge of losing everything.

I woke up before him. Still entangled in his arms, I watched him sleep. I watched as his chest rose and fell in sync with the beating of his heart. Every now and then the edges of his mouth would twitch into a tiny smile. What’s he dreaming about? I reached out and touched his hair. He stirred, but didn’t wake. My heart ached as the gravity of my feelings for this guy began to hit me.

This had gone beyond me liking him. I was falling in love with him, and I was pretty sure the feeling was mutual. But every thought of how much I felt for him was underlined with the worry of what I was hiding from him. If he found out, how much would that change things? If he could get past the age difference, could he move through my deception? Could I if the roles were reversed?

His eyelids fluttered open. He smiled and reached out, his fingers grazing over the softness of my arm.

“Hey, beautiful,” he muttered.

“Hey,” I smiled. I bit my lip. It was impossible not to feel happy when I was around him. He lifted his arm and I rolled over, letting him spoon my back, his skin warm against mine. We were both naked, but last night had been nothing but him being there for me.

“I like waking up to this,” he mumbled into the back of my neck and then kissing me there. I giggled, squirming against him. His erection pressed up against my back and I laughed even more.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he whispered in my ear. “One of the hazards of being a guy is the morning hard-on.”

“Harsh,” I giggled, turning over to face him. “You could’ve at least pretended that it was all me.”

“Do you really want our relationship to start on a bed of lies?” He sighed dramatically and drew me in for another kiss. My heart raced, both at the feel of his lips meeting mine, and at the mention of lies.

There it was again, that gnawing in my stomach. What if he found out? Was it better to just come clean? No. If I told him the truth, I’d lose him for sure. He had issues with the four-year age difference. Eight years would surely push him over the edge.

“That comment made you go awfully quiet,” he smirked. “Was it the mention of a relationship? I know we haven’t really talked about what this is. I haven’t scared you off, have I?”

“Hardly,” I smiled. “I was just thinking about how lucky I feel right now.”

“You’re lucky?” He laughed. “I’m the lucky one. I’m in bed with a hottie. And she’s a damn good kisser.” He lifted my face and pressed his lips against mine. “Among other things,” he muttered, running his tongue over my mouth.

I laughed, wishing we could stay like that all day. It would be some kind of heaven to not get out of bed, and just lie there in a tangled web of arms and legs. I reached for my phone to check the time. Holy shit, it was nearly one in the morning.