Moth to a Flame

by Cambria Hebert

A scoffing sound filled the bathroom. “Like you?”

  “Yes. Like me.”

  Her body was completely still, but her voice was shaky. “Now isn’t the time.”

  “If not now, when?”

  She fell silent.

  “The Moth is out there—” She fretted, but I cut her off.

  “Yes, he is. He’s been out there since nineteen eighty-four. Since before we were even born. How long will you give him, Zo? How long will you let him rule your world?”

  “That’s not fair.”

  “I know it’s not.” I agreed. I wasn’t being fair. I was pushing. But I was doing it with a sincere heart. “You know what else isn’t fair?”

  She made a rude sound that made me smile.

  “That you’re sitting here hiding that beautiful face from me.”

  “I thought I was going to be alone the rest of the night,” she grumped.

  I’d never thought grumpiness was charming until now.

  “Ahh,” I mused. “That explains the cute ponytail.”

  She made a sound.

  “And the bunny ears,” I teased.

  Gasping, she slapped a hand against the fuzzy headband and groaned.

  Pulling her hand away, I kissed the backs of her fingers. “Are your eyes blue right now?”

  She nodded.

  “Show me.”

  She didn’t say no, but she didn’t lift her face either.

  Placing my hands on either side of her neck, using the pads of my thumbs at her throat, I applied very minimal pressure, just enough to get her to tip back her head.

  Shifting back a little, I gazed down into her fully exposed face.

  The startling blue of her eyes made my heart gallop unevenly. Her eyelashes were naturally light, making me think of sunshine in a cloudless sapphire sky. Her nose was perky and cute, decorated with a small spattering of light freckles. The tone of her skin was pink and smooth, her lips naturally rosy.

  She looked younger this way, with all her hair swept away from her face. Without makeup hiding many of her features. There was an innocence and freshness about her that inspired an even greater sense of protectiveness within me.

  My silence unnerved her, as did my undivided attention. The tips of the bunny ears smacked me in the chin when she ducked her face.

  “Let’s make a deal,” I suggested.

  She looked up, nose wrinkling. “What?”

  Unable to stop myself, I grabbed one of her cheeks and pinched it lightly. “You look even more like a bunny when you do your nose like that.”

  She smacked my hand away. “What deal?”

  The teasing left my eyes and my voice. Grasping her sides, I shifted closer. “That you’ll always let me see you like this.”

  Maybe it was too much. Or maybe I didn’t want to see doubt in her eyes right now. Tonight.

  Tilting my head to the side, I reconsidered. “How about for tonight, then?”

  “What about tomorrow?” she whispered.

  “I’ll ask you again tomorrow. And the day after that. And the day after that. I’ll take it one day at a time until you can give me more than that.”

  She blew out a shaky breath, ducking her face into my shoulder once more. “You’re really good at this.”

  “No. I just know what I want.”

  “And you want me?”

  “Yes.”

  She fell quiet. Not exactly the kind of response a guy wants when he basically lays it all out on the line. But hey, she didn’t kick me out of the room. Progress. Right?

  “You done in here?”

  She nodded.

  When I lifted her off the counter, she squealed, hands grasping my shoulders. Her legs wound around my waist, and she pulled back, wide blue eyes surprised. “What are you doing?”

  “Taking you to bed.”

  Flipping off the light as I went, I went back through the bedroom to the door.

  “The bed is over there,” she said, pointing over my shoulder.

  “You’re sleeping in my bed tonight.”

  “When did you get so bossy?” she muttered.

  I grinned. “I’ve always been this bossy, angel. I just always give in to you.” Stopping halfway through the house, I put my face close to hers. “It’s your turn to give in to me.”

  She stiffened, and I continued carrying her through the dark house.

  “Where’s all the bodyguards?” she asked, gazing around, timid.

  “Outside. No one’s in here but us tonight.”

  The only light in my room was from a small lamp near the bed, and it illuminated the room just enough without being overly bright.

  All the bedding was black, with the exception of the sheets, which were white with black pinstripes.

  After sitting Zoey on the bed, I sat close, angling to face her. “Show me how this thing works.” I motioned to her leg.

  Her hand went to it defensively. Or maybe protectively. Maybe both.

  “What? Why?”

  “Because I want to know about it.”

  Her eyes were wary like she was trying to decide what exactly I wanted.

  “You don’t normally sleep with it, right?”

  She made a sound of agreement. “Not at home.”

  “All right, show me how it comes off.”

  She gaped.

  “Didn’t you already agree to let me see you tonight?”

  “I thought you meant my face.” She pointed at her scars, her ponytail, and that doggone cute headband.

  “I meant all of you, Zo.”

  Again, her hand went to her knee. I understood her guard. I respected it. But fuck, it was exhausting. Perhaps pushing wasn’t the best course of action. Or maybe my patience was wearing out. Even though I didn’t want it, disappointment made my heart heavy. I wasn’t sure what else I could do to get closer to her.

  There wasn’t anything. Anything but time.

  Rising from the bed, I told her, “I’ll take you back to your room so you can take it off and sleep comfortably.”

  “Wait.” The touch against my wrist was light, but it was more than enough to make me turn back.

  I half smiled. “Want me to carry you again?” Bending, I reached for her, but she grabbed my hands, stopping me.

  I looked up. Our faces were almost level, our noses close to touching. The second our eyes met and held, currents of electricity passed between us. The air turned thick, and a knot of desire formed solidly in the center of my throat.

  She didn’t say anything, instead pulling me down onto the mattress beside her.

  “To take it off, you have to push this pin down here near the ankle,” she said, leaning down to show me the small button.

  “Zoey.”

  Her hands paused, but she didn’t look up.

  “I pushed too hard. I’ll wait ‘til you’re ready.”

  “I want to grab onto something that will make me happy.”

  I wasn’t expecting that answer, and in the moments it took to recover, she started moving again. Pressing the pin down, she pulled off the prosthetic in a single motion. “It weighs about four pounds,” she explained, lifting it up for me to see. “This part here is made of fiberglass.” She pointed to the part that her leg slid down inside. “If you look in there at the bottom, there is a hole. That’s where the pin clicks into place.”

  Setting it aside, she snuck a glance out of the corner of her eye before clearing her throat and turning toward the leg.

  “This is my amputated leg,” she introduced, rubbing her hand along the small part of leg that remained below her knee. It was actually more than I expected, not that I really expected anything.

  There was definitely what looked like a white sock over the leg and a metal rod (or pin as she called it) sticking out of the end. Seeing it there made my stomach tumble.

  “It’s not very attractive,” she said, obviously looking at my face.

  Which I clearly did not control well. Fuck.

  “No.” I hurried to explai
n. “It’s just... Does that hurt?” I pointed to the pin. “I don’t want you to hurt.”

  When she didn’t say anything, I glanced up. She was staring at me, her eyes tender.

  “What?”

  “You’re worried it hurts me?” she whispered.

  I nodded.

  She sniffled lightly, then leaned in, pressing her lips to my cheek. “No one’s ever asked me if it hurts.”

  A strand of hair was sticking out from under the headband, so I reached out and tucked it away.

  Pulling back, she went back to explaining. “The pin isn’t in my leg.” Tugging off the sock, she set it aside, then reached down for something else. “This is called a liner.” She went on, tugging off what looked like yet another sock. This one was grey and wasn’t made of cotton. But when she pulled it off, the pin came with it. “It’s made of silicon. This is what the pin is attached to, and that’s what goes into the socket.”

  I nodded.

  Turning the liner inside out, she went on. “See? The inside is made of a silicon material. This thing here that the pin is attached to?” She pointed to a white disk-shape thing on the end. “Is called an umbrella. To put it on your leg, you hold the umbrella section so it’s flat and then you place it against the leg, then roll on the liner.”

  “And then you put the sock on it, then the socket?” I asked.

  She nodded. “The pin clicks into place when you stand up, and that is what basically locks the prosthetic in place.”

  “Seems pretty simple.”

  A current of tension surrounded her. Then she cleared her throat. I didn’t understand why until she set aside the liner and gazed down at her fully exposed leg.

  Ah.

  “So.” She began nervously. “This is my leg.” Rubbing her hands over the skin, she trailed down to where it was rounded on the end. “It’s actually called a stump.”

  I frowned. “Really?”

  She nodded.

  “I don’t like that,” I grumbled, suddenly irritated.

  “Why not?”

  “It seems like a bad thing to say.” I hesitated. “Like an insult.”

  She giggled. “It’s just a technical term. It’s what it called. It’s not meant to be anything insulting.”

  I nodded, stealing a glance back down.

  “It’s gets thinner down here because it has shrunk. Loss of muscle mass, things like that.”

  The skin was smooth and clean. There wasn’t any terrible scaring or anything like that. Maybe I expected it to look more... rough? But it didn’t. It just looked like a leg with a section missing.

  “When I sleep at night, I wear a shrinker in case the limb swells. That way I still fit into the socket in the morning.”

  “A shrinker?” I asked. “Is that like a sock?” I remembered seeing her with something like that on the night her place was broken into.

  She nodded. “Yep.”

  “And that’s it?”

  She seemed mildly amused. “Well, for the prosthetic, yes.”

  “What about in the shower?”

  “No, this one isn’t made for water. Plus, it’s important to keep the stump—” I made a sound. She patted me on the shoulder and cleared her throat. “The end of the leg clean so I don’t get sores.”

  I realized something. “Isn’t it hard to shower with one leg?”

  “I have handles and a bench in my shower at home.”

  Anger made me jump up off the bed. “Not here. Why the hell didn’t you say anything to me? How hard has it been for you in the mornings?”

  Her eyes widened. “I’ve managed.”

  I let about five curse words loose and rubbed a hand over my hair.

  “Nick.” She gasped. “That was really dirty.”

  “I’m pissed off,” I muttered. How could I be so stupid to not think about how she would be affected living here? My house was not really handicap friendly.

  I stopped pacing. “I never thought of you as handicapped.”

  “What?”

  I turned. “You aren’t handicapped to me, so I never thought of it. Because of that, you’ve had to live with difficulty.”

  Pushing up off the bed, she wobbled a little, trying to maintain her balance. Rushing over, I grasped her waist.

  “I hardly call staying in this mansion difficult.”

  “I’m sorry. Tell me everything you need. I’ll get contractors out here tomorrow.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” She half snorted, pushing me away.

  Without my balance, she lost hers and fell backward.

  I caught her around the waist, but it was too late. The momentum was already there, and both of us fell back on the bed with me landing firmly on top of her.

  “Fuck me in the goat ass,” I muttered, pushing up so I didn’t crush her.

  “What?” she exclaimed, slapping her palms on my biceps.

  “Did I hurt you?”

  “No, but that poor goat.” She worried.

  I threw back my head and laughed.

  She joined me, and the sound of our laughter mingling brought a rush of emotion so strong all sound stalled in my throat.

  Our eyes connected. Humor turned to desire, and desire gave way to something else. Something I wasn’t expecting.

  Emotion. Tenderness. Love.

  “Thank you for showing me,” I whispered, dragging the backs of my fingers across her cheekbone.

  “You don’t think...” Her lips rolled in, stopping her words.

  “Don’t think what?”

  The tip of her pink tongue stroked over her mouth, and her eyes left mine. “That it’s ugly?”

  Grasping her chin a little rougher than I intended, I forced her face back to mine. I hoped my green eyes seared her with sincerity. I hoped the truth of my words could be felt all the way to her bones. “There is not one thing about you that’s ugly. Not one damn thing.”

  I punctuated the words with a demanding kiss, as if I could shove the words into her soul by fusing my mouth with hers. A small moan vibrated her chest, and I kissed deeper, encouraged by her reaction.

  She melted into the mattress, and I forgot about supporting my own weight, instead pressing her deeper into the blankets until every inch of her was pressed against every inch of me. When at last my lungs screamed for air, I ripped my mouth away, sucking in great gulps before delving into her neck to suck at the skin.

  “Nick.” She gasped, tensing. “Wait.”

  Startled, I pulled back immediately, scouring her face for the answer to what I did wrong.

  Her eyes were unfocused, her lips swollen and red. Her cheeks were spotted with pink, and the bunny headband was falling off her head.

  I was proud of my handiwork. I was proud that she looked so thoroughly fucked when all I’d done was kiss her.

  “What?” I gasped, still not comprehending what I’d done wrong.

  Her eyes flashed with insecurity as her hand slid between us to cup the side of her neck. Eyes narrowing, I grasped her chin. “Did I hurt you?” I demanded, turning her face so I could see. “I have a tendency to use my teeth,” I muttered, pissed at myself.

  Her hand was in the way. I couldn’t see what I’d done.

  “Move your hand, angel.”

  “Nick.”

  “Angel,” I growled.

  Reluctantly, her hand fell aside.

  Realization dawned. It was her left side. I’d grazed the scar on her jawline... probably kissed the scarring on her neck.

  Horror washed through me. “Did it hurt? Is your skin sensitive there?” When she didn’t answer, I glared down. “Zoey.”

  She blinked, shocked. “You didn’t notice where you were kissing?”

  “What? No. All I was doing was feeling—” My words ended abruptly. “Is that what this is about?” I asked, fucking relieved. “Because I touched them?”

  She nodded.

  Rolling off her, my back hit the mattress. “You almost gave me a fucking coronary.” I moaned. “I thought I hurt
you.”

  “You cuss a lot.”

  “I’m horny,” I blurted out.

  The second I did, I froze. What the fuck is wrong with me tonight? “Zoey, I—”

  She started laughing.

  Leaning up on one elbow, I glowered down at her. “What’s so funny?”

  “You,” she answered, dissolving into a fit of giggles. The giggling was more insulting than the laughter.

  “Explain yourself.”

  “You burst in the bathroom and try to be all bossy and forceful, but you’re just as nervous as I am.”

  “I am not,” I declared.

  “Are too.” She giggled again.

  “Take that back.”

  “No!”

  I leapt on her again, straddling her hips and pinning her down. Burying my fingers in her ribs, I started to tickle her.

  She bucked and giggled. “Ow!”

  I leapt off her again. “Zoey!” Grabbing the tank top, I yanked it up, looking down at her ribs. While my face was buried beneath the pink tank, she started laughing again.

  Pulling my face out, I pinned her with a glare. “Are you joking with me right now?”

  “Your face!” She pointed.

  “I thought I hurt you!”

  She kept right on giggling.

  Damn her, the sound was incredibly cute.

  Her body still shaking with amusement, I crawled over her, resting my elbows on either side of her and lowering so I was lying atop her.

  Once there was full contact between us, her humor died away, and we were left watching each other in the dim bedroom light.

  The sound of her swallowing gave me immense satisfaction. Yeah, maybe I was a little nervous with her. But she was nervous too.

  “I’m so afraid I’ll do something wrong with you,” I confided. “I want to push, but I’m so anxious I’ll scare you away.”

  “No one’s ever cared this much,” she returned. “I’m not sure I’m worth it...” Her voice wobbled, her eyes straying away. But then they came back, settling on mine like the blue sky over a green forest. “But please keep pushing. It’s hard for me, but I don’t mind it when it’s you doing it.”

  Butterflies went wild in my middle, excitement twisted me up inside, and my heart swelled so much it pressed against my ribs.

  Slowly, I reached up to tug the headband off her head, tossing it somewhere into the room. Smoothing the stray hair away from her face, I gazed down, taking in every inch of her.