Waken (The Woods of Everod Book 1) by Angela Fristoe

Author:Angela Fristoe
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Little Prince Publishing
Published: 2014-09-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

I pulled away from his arms, going back to the sofa and sank onto the soft cushions, curling up my legs. He sat on the floor in front of me, threading his fingers through mine, and my tension faded at his touch. He rested one arm beside my bent legs, and brought his face within inches of mine. There were still so many questions racing through me and while I wanted answers, I also needed to digest everything I’d learned and seen. So, I let the subject drop and focused on him, mesmerized by the light glinting in his eyes. If eyes are the windows to the soul, I wanted to know what his were trying to tell me.

I gravitated towards him, trying to inhale his rich scent. My eyelids fluttered closed and I breathed deeply. The slamming of the front door stopped me and I flopped back on the couch. Tristan groaned then shifted to face the television.

“Hey, guys.” Tim came into the living room, blatantly studying us, searching for some sign that we’d been doing what he thought we’d been doing. What I couldn’t tell was whether he wanted us to be doing that so he could reassure himself that I was a normal kid, or whether he didn’t because I was still his little girl.

The silence became awkward as Tim painstakingly measured the situation. Tristan finally broke it. “How was the movie?”

“What?” Tim twitched and looked taken aback, “Oh, it was alright.”

“Alright?” Justin exclaimed from the hall, “It was awesome! I’d never seen so much blood and guts in a single movie before.” His face grew animated, “I loved it. Usually these Hollywood horrors don’t do the full out gore, but this one was awesome! The special effects were amazing.” When Justin’s vocabulary got stuck on awesome and amazing it couldn’t get any better for him, so I knew it wasn’t a movie I’d go to see by choice.

Tim sat in the armchair at the end of the couch by my feet and flicked the channel to the sports station. I listened as he and Tristan discussed the baseball results and began debating who was the greatest player to ever pick up a bat.

The tension that had built in Tristan’s face disappeared. Talking with Justin and Tim, he was just a regular guy, not the passionate man who had been kissing me, nor the mysterious boy who refused to reveal himself completely.

Under my inquisitive gaze, he turned to me, breaking off his comment to Tim mid-sentence. “I should go,” he said. “You’re tired.”

“No, I’m fine,” I protested, then immediately contradicted myself with a loud yawn. “Okay, I am a little tired.”

He stood and then grasped my hands helping me to my feet. I walked with him onto the porch, shivering in the cold. He wrapped me in his arms, enveloping me with his heat, defending me from the harsh elements of the world. I pressed my ear to his chest and listened to the furious beating of his heart.

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