Coming Home by Lydia Michaels

Author:Lydia Michaels
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Group, USA
Published: 2014-01-21T05:00:00+00:00

***

Evelyn awoke after a long bout of lovemaking and crept through the dark condo to find Lucian exactly where she knew he would be. His expression softened the minute he noticed her, his arm lifting invitingly.

She climbed onto his lap and rested her head on his bare shoulder as those strong arms closed around her. Breathing in his familiar scent, she realized, like the scent of burning leaves or the scent of the cots at the shelter, his rich musk now held a very special nostalgic place in her heart.

He always smelled so fresh and good. Her mother, when she was clean, had a stronger scent that wasn’t unpleasant, just . . . different. Pearl often smelled of cold weather, briny and sort of metallic, like winter. Parker smelled like most boys. Evelyn wondered what she smelled like.

Pressing her nose into Lucian’s throat, she inhaled deeply. Lovely.

His hand coasted over her tangled hair. “I miss you being here all the time.”

She missed him too. It was a difficult predicament. Part of her demanded this physical space between them, but another part longed for the convenience of always having him near. Her independence was something she longed for. She’d always had it, but this time it was different. It was on her terms, not based on uncontrollable circumstance. She wanted to hold on to that hard-earned freedom with both hands.

She wasn’t sure when she’d be satisfied, but expected one day she’d be comfortable enough to let it all go and surrender to the currents of life. The tides had changed. She no longer had the sense of drowning.

Her exhaustion was welcome. It was one that followed a hard day’s work and too much thinking over written words and elementary math equations. It was a good sort of tired, nothing like the unending hunger that came with her previous nomadic existence. Yet it was all so new, and that was why she had trouble trusting its perpetuity.

“I know. I miss it too.”

“Will you ever come back to me?”

She loved these moments tucked away in the shadows of the night. It was their confessional, where eyes needn’t meet and secrets could be told. “Yes. When I’m ready.”

Warm lips pressed into her temple. “How often will you see Jason?”

“As often as he can manage. I have years and years of missing out to make up for. I want to learn as fast as my brain can manage.”

“Don’t burn yourself out.”

“I don’t understand that concept.”

“I know you don’t. You’re like the little engine that could. Quitting’s a foreign term to you.”

“It’s grueling,” she admitted.

“What is? Never letting yourself give up?”

“Yes. There were times I thought about not moving. About just giving over to the frigid lock on my bones and the hollow feeling in my belly. There were days it was simply impossible to move my fingers, all my energy going into shivering uncontrollably, where my hunger became an emotion I couldn’t contain. But I always forced myself to find food and something to keep that fire burning.

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