“Good,” she said winking.
She squeezed into the sleeping bag with me and rested her head on my chest. We laid there in the dimly lit room staring at shadows while I gently stroked her hair. “I’m sorry I eavesdropped on your singing.”
“It’s ok.”
“No, it was private and I shouldn’t have.”
“Really, it’s ok.”
“Yeah but I still feel bad.”
“I forgive you.”
We sat in silence for a minute longer before I made a decision and said “Sarah?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you remember those little black books you found in my dresser?”
I felt her muscles tense, “Yeah.”
“If you go get them I’ll show them to you.”
“Really?” she said excitedly.
“Yeah.”
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
“No, I do. I don’t want to hide anything from you and I figure it’s only fair since I heard you sing today”
“Ok. I’ll be right back,” she said jumping up and nearly bolted from the room
I laughed softly to myself and then steeled my emotions for what I was about to do, for what I was about to show her. I guess you’ll see how much she really cares about you, I thought.
It was maybe forty-five second before she returned with both pieces of my past and she was nearly dancing with excitement. She climbed back into the sleeping bag and asked, “Which one first?”
I thought for a second before saying, “The bigger one.”
She set the smaller black book to the side and opened the larger one to the first page. I had every detail of that first page memorized and so I watched her beautiful eyes as they darted across the pages and then saw as they widened as comprehension dawned on her. “James!” she whispered so softly I almost couldn’t hear her.
Survivors Series (Book 1): Heroes Aren't Born Page 41
