Saven Deception

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by Siobhan Davis


  I’m lost in a halfway land between consciousness and unconsciousness, and I’m incapable of responding.

  His hand smooths over my hair sending a delectable tremor coursing through me. “I’m sorry for everything. Especially for what’s about to come. Because I can’t be apart from you any longer.”

  I want to respond to the words I’ve longed to hear, but I’m barely conscious as it is.

  His lips graze my cheek as I fall deeper and deeper into slumber. “I love you, Sadie. Now and forever.”

  CHAPTER 21

  I snuggle into my warm, soft pillow, murmuring contently. The pillow moves and my head lolls back and forth. Huh? A light chuckle fully rouses me. Raising my head, I open my eyes and spot two glistening cerulean eyes inspecting me. “Good morning, Angel,” Logan says, trailing his hand up and down my arm. Delicate shivers race all over my skin. “Did you sleep well?”

  “I slept perfectly.” I smile shyly at him.

  “Me too.” He grins and his cute dimples make an impromptu appearance.

  Last night replays in vivid detail in my mind, and I groan. Flopping down on the actual pillow, I attempt to untangle my legs, but he’s having none of it. Twisting on his side, he pulls me closer. My head comes into contact with his inviting chest. He has his shirt on, but heat still rolls off him in waves. “I like waking up with you.” He traces a finger across my cheek. My fingertips lightly graze his chin, and his bristly hair tickles my skin. “Scratch that,” Logan adds, “I love waking up with you.”

  His emphasis on the word brings a memory to the surface. I’m not sure if I dreamed it, but I think he might’ve told me he loved me last night. If this is one of those occasions where he’s going to blow hot and cold, I don’t think I can survive it this time. Better to know now, so I can try to prepare myself. “What now?”

  “Now?” He assumes quiet reflection. “Now I’m going to do something I’ve been dreaming about non-stop since the cave.” His head tips down and he presses his lips to mine. This kiss is sweet and desperate, soft and hard, pleasure and need.

  My mouth welcomes him like a long-lost friend as his tongue sweeps against mine. His hands press into the small of my back, holding me tight against the smooth hard lines of his body. Being held this way is heavenly, and I cherish every sensation he invokes in me. Our legs entwine, and suddenly I’m on my back and he’s suspended over me. The kiss deepens, and my skin feels like it’s on fire. His hips rock against mine, and heady desire courses through me. This is everything I’ve hoped for and more. When I’m with Logan like this, nothing else matters.

  He is all I need and all I want.

  His hand moves slowly under the hem of my shirt. He moans. I moan. And the kissing and groping gets more frantic. I suspect where this is going, and I know we need to stop because I’m not ready to move this fast. However, I don’t have to do anything, because Logan does it for me, as if he’s perfectly attuned to my mind.

  Rolling off me, he lands heavily beside me with a thump. Throwing a hand over his face, he closes his eyes and blows air out of his mouth. My chest heaves as painfully as my stomach did last night. I trace a finger over my swollen, puffy lips as I prop myself up and look over at him. “Logan?”

  He drops his arm and opens his eyes. He stares at me, sweltering emotion glistening in his eyes. “I love you.” His eyes never stray.

  My heart starts a happy dance but I urge caution. “You do?”

  “I’ve loved you from the first moment I laid eyes on you.” He sits up against the headrest and pulls me into his embrace. His lips brush the top of my hair. “I know it mustn’t have seemed like that, but there’s so much you don’t know, Sadie. All I’ve done has been done out of love for you. But I’m essentially selfish, and I can’t stay away from you anymore. It’s killing me not being with you.”

  This can’t be happening. I must be asleep. Obviously dreaming. “I don’t care about all the reasons—whatever they are—why we can’t be together. I only care about the reasons why we should.”

  He presses his forehead to mine. “I hope you feel that way when you know the truth.”

  “You’re going to tell me?” My eyes bore into his.

  “Yes.” He kisses me quickly. “If you want to be with me—”

  “I do. I want that,” I rush to reassure him.

  He kisses me again. “Well, then you need to be appraised of all the facts. I …” he trails off, worry dotting his brow.

  “You’re that worried?” How bad can it be?

  “It’s a lot to take in. More than most humans could deal with.”

  I don’t miss the deliberate inflection. Perhaps I should be afraid of what he’s hinting at, but all I feel is tremendous exhilaration. “So, spill.” My voice betrays my excitement at finally learning the truth. Irrespective of what it is, I know I’ll handle it. The truth will set us free. I sit cross-legged in front of him.

  “Not now. I have to meet my father today, and it’s probably going to take up most of the day into the night. Tomorrow, I’m all yours. What do you say? Will you spend the day with me tomorrow?”

  “Of course.” I’m resisting the urge to pinch myself because if ever there was a pinch-me moment, this is it.

  “It’s a date.” He grins widely, and I smile back at him.

  We stare at each other like two lovesick fools. The charge electrifies the air between us. His eyes smolder and I lean in and kiss him passionately. When we break the kiss, he looks at me amusedly. “What was that for?”

  “Just because I can.” Then it strikes me. Nothing is cemented yet. No labels have been agreed. “I mean,” I add, stuttering ineptly, “I can, can’t I?”

  He sits bolt upright and takes my hands in his, settling me. “It appears I need to clarify things.” He kisses the tip of my nose and it’s adorably sweet. “I love you. And where I’m from, we only love once. Our pairing is slightly unconventional, but you are it for me. For always.”

  My heart trills at his words, and I can’t believe we’ve gone from acute ignorance of each other to declaring ourselves. I can’t claim to fully understand what he means by that, and while he won’t be permitted to pledge a commitment to me for life, it’s not like I’m going to correct him after that proclamation of love. I’m happy to wallow in the fantasy for now.

  “I—” I pause. Caught up in the moment, I was going to say that I love him too, but I can’t say that, not until I know that’s what I’m actually feeling. I have no experience with love, so I don’t know if this is the real deal. Is it enough that he consumes my every waking thought? That I physically ache each time I see him? That he’s the one unlocking my heart and un-taping my mouth?

  Although he’s hurt me, I don’t want to be the cause of his pain. But I refuse to lie or mislead him. “I care about you so much, but no boy has ever told me they love me before. And I haven’t said that to anyone either, and I … I think I do, but I need to be sure that it’s the entirety of what I’m feeling. That I’m not influenced by the moment.”

  “It’s okay,” he says, making soothing, circular motions on the back of my hand. “I understand, and it’s fine. It’s easier for me to put a name to my feelings anyway.”

  That’s a supremely odd thing to say. “What?”

  “I’ll explain tomorrow. I love you. I love you.” He tenderly presses his lips to my forehead.

  His declaration resonates with sincerity, and there’s no doubt in my mind he means every word. I swallow the messy ball of emotion at the back of my throat. Imploring my tear ducts to cooperate, I sniffle. I so don’t want to cry.

  His lips find mine again and his kiss claims me. My body sparks to life. We indulge in round two of frantic tongue tangling and every nerve, cell, bone, and tissue in my body is hotwired with desire. I’ve only ever dreamed of this, wished for this. The reality is all that and more.

  Logan breaks the embrace first. I’m still leaning toward him, drooling over him as if he’s mint chocolate ice cream with an extra dol
lop of chocolate sauce on top. “We are together now, and I will inform my father of that. So, no more dates for me—thank God,” he exhales gratefully, “and no more dancing with boys with grabby hands for you.” He tweaks my nose. “We good?”

  “You mean it? You’re not going to turn around tomorrow and say it was all a mistake?”

  A pained expression flits over his features. “I’ve hurt you, and that was the last thing I wanted to do.”

  “I can forgive you, if what you’re telling me now is the truth. But please don’t mess with me. I don’t think I can handle it again.”

  He brings my hand to his lips and brushes his mouth across my skin. “I promise that I’m telling you the truth, and I’m going nowhere. I love you from the bottom of my heart. You are the only one for me.”

  “Okay.” My grin could light up the entire city.

  “So,” he says, briefly kissing my lips. “Are we good?”

  “We’re good. More than good.” I smile and kiss him again.

  Hoisting me onto his lap, he squeezes my waist. “I promise I won’t let anything happen to you. I will keep you safe.” His lips brush my temple.

  “You say that a lot.”

  “It’s the truth. You mean the world to me, and I’ll do everything in my power to keep you out of harm’s way.”

  “I believe you.” I squeeze him tight. Though I do believe his intentions are pure, I can’t help wondering if our definitions of safety are the same. For me, safety is more than physical protection. Being safe is not returning to the confines of my old life, having a concrete plan for the future, and being in charge of my own destiny. And it’s not only that, it’s also hard for me to consider relinquishing control over my own safety when I’ve been the only one taking care of me these last seventeen years. Can I trust someone else with my safety? With my heart? With my body and mind? These are questions I have no answers to right now.

  “Tomorrow, when I explain, I’ll need you to keep an open mind, Sadie. Do you think you can do that?” He looks suitably worried and little goose bumps form on my skin.

  “I can. Don’t worry. There isn’t anything you can say that’ll scare me off now.”

  I caress his face and he sighs contentedly. “I hope that’s true, but I’m fearful it’s not.”

  ***

  After Logan leaves, I lie in bed swooning blissfully as if I’ve been shot with Cupid’s arrow. Slowly, my eyelids grow heavy, and I spend the rest of the morning dozing in bed.

  Once I’m showered and dressed, I head cautiously into the kitchen.

  Tiptoeing over to Jenna’s room, I knock tentatively on the door. “Jen? Are you in there?” I open the door a smidgeon. Like most other mornings, her bed is undisturbed. As I recall her disorientated state last night, an outpouring of concern grips me. I need to stage an intervention.

  I saunter into the living room. Propping my bare feet up on the couch, I command the screen to life and inattentively watch TV. Delayed embarrassment confronts me, and I cringe at the prospect of facing others on campus on Monday. No doubt, the story of my drunken humiliation is already doing the rounds.

  A little icon pops up on the side of the screen. I click into the app, and my eyes widen when I count over twenty messages from Jarod. Holy crap. Jarod! I totally forgot about him last night. He must’ve been so worried.

  I open the first message.

  JW: Where did you go last night and why was Logan sneaking out of your apartment this morning? He told me you were sleeping or I would’ve knocked.

  Then I open the last message:

  JW: Are you alive? Please message me or I’m going to get Vin.

  That was sent ten minutes ago. Reaching around the side of the couch, I locate my comm-clip and fix it to my ear. “Call Jarod,” I command and the line connects.

  “Sadie?” Jarod’s worried voice echoes in my ear.

  “I’m fine! Please tell me you haven’t notified Vin?”

  “I was just about to.”

  I sag in relief. “Thank God.”

  “What happened last night? I was told there was some altercation between Logan and some dude you were dancing with and then between Logan and Dante. When I came back to the room, you were gone. Fern told me you left with him. I was hell-bent on barging over to yours last night but she convinced me you were okay. Nevertheless, I’ve been going out of my mind with worry all morning.”

  “I’m sorry, Jarod. I should’ve called you sooner but I’ve been napping since Logan left. Do you know that Dante spiked the punch?” I stretch my legs out in front of me.

  “I heard,” he grits out. “He’s a total asshole.”

  “I was so out of it. I puked and everything.” I cringe with the memory.

  “Attractive,” he teases. “I’d suspected you were drunk as Mal pulled me away. I shouldn’t have left you alone.”

  I can sense Jarod mentally chastising himself. “Don’t beat yourself up over it. I’m fine. I don’t even have a hangover, and Logan looked after me. Pumped me with water and medication, and he, um, stayed to make sure I was okay during the night. Honestly, I couldn’t have been in better hands.”

  Jarod harrumphs down the line. “That’s a matter of opinion,” he says sourly.

  “He’s … he’s not a bad guy, Jarod.”

  He’s amazing, and wonderful, and caring, and loving, and mine. I hug my arms around my waist and grin to myself.

  “That’s also a matter of opinion. He’s a freak.”

  “Things are different between us now.” I smile as the words leave my mouth.

  “I’m glad we’re heading out tonight. It’s time you know the truth about the freaks.”

  “He’s not a freak. Please stop saying that.” I sigh. “Besides, Logan is going to explain it all to me tomorrow anyway.”

  Jarod harrumphs again. “A likely story.”

  “Jarod! Stop it. He is going to fill me in. He promised.”

  “I recall him making a similar promise before and failing to deliver on it.”

  Of course, Jarod knows how to play on my insecurities. “This is different,” I hiss. “He told me he loves me.” There is dead silence on the line. “Jarod? You there?”

  “Yes,” he says through gritted teeth.

  I’m expecting more push back but he says nothing. “So, um, what time are we meeting at tonight?” It’s a deliberate tactic to divert the current topic of conversation, and I don’t care whether he knows it or not. Jarod’s my best friend, and I don’t want to fall out with him over Logan.

  “Meet me out front at ten p.m. sharp.” He sounds grumpy.

  “’Kay. See you then.” I cut the call before either one of us says something we might regret.

  My conversation with Jarod has me on edge the rest of the day. I know he doesn’t approve of Logan, but I don’t understand why. Surely, if I can forgive Logan, then he can to? Or has Jarod discovered something specifically to do with him? His cryptic comment has me puzzled.

  Fern calls me late afternoon for a gossip. She’s on cloud nine. Having secured a date with the hottie she’s been chasing for weeks, she’s adequately distracted, and I’m able to deflect her questions regarding Logan. I terminate the call promising to call her in the morning.

  I resume my inquisitive inner monologue. Certain things Logan said come back to haunt me. His assertion that “where I come from we only love once” is perplexing. Somehow, I don’t think he’s talking about Seattle. So, where is he from?

  And is that true, or a figure of speech? Also, his not-so-flippant comment about “humans” has me rattled. Is he implying he’s a vampire or an angel or something? I chuckle to myself. I think I’ve been reading too many fantasy books. Now who’s sounding crazy?

  Bored, I decide to search for more Will Smith movies to watch. I flick through the movie database. Independence Day! Logan mentioned that one, so I click on the link and spend the next two hours engrossed in the alien invasion movie. I snicker at a couple of one-liners I recognize.


  Momentarily, I wonder if Logan’s fascination with Will Smith is anything to do with aliens and if that’s the connection, but I pitch that ludicrous notion from my head the minute I think it. That’s as farfetched as believing he’s a vampire or an angel. But his words refuse to go away and I shiver every time I linger on how he said the word “human.” Is he really implying that he’s not human? He can’t mean that. No way. Not when he looks as human as the next person.

  Jenna enters the apartment as the closing credits roll over the screen. I mute the TV and sit up. “Hey, Jen.” My knee jiggles nervously. “Do you have time to chat?”

  “I only came to get more clothes.” She looks like the walking wounded, and her eyes have that all too familiar glazed look about them.

  I’m not giving up that easy. “Why don’t I make us some coffee while you pack your stuff?” She gives me a lopsided shrug as she walks into her room. Ignoring her detachment, I hop up and quickly fix our drinks.

  Jenna reappears as I’m placing the cups down on the coffee table. I pat the couch beside me and she shuffles over. “How are you?” She shrugs and closes her fingers tighter around the mug. I put my cup down. To hell with polite conversation. “What’s going on, Jen? You can tell me. I’m still your friend, and I’m worried about you.”

  Tears surface in her eyes and the dazed look is gone. “I … I’m …” She bows her head. “I slept with Dante. But I wish I hadn’t. I wasn’t ready. I thought I was … I believed he could be the one … I wish I could go back. I feel strange … I can’t think straight … I can’t think … I want to belong to me again … now he wants to do it all the time and I …”

  She’s babbling and her anguish floors me. “Move back in here! We’ll figure out some way of keeping him from you.” I wrap my arms around her.

  “You don’t understand. It’s too late.” Her tears dry up and her face displays silent acquiescence. She stands up, rubbing her sleeve across her face. “Forget I said anything. Don’t involve yourself.” Reaching into her bag, she pulls out a set of beautiful cream and gold patterned undies. She hands them to me. “I made these for you a while back. I hope they fit.”

 

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