Page 68 of Claiming Liberty
ANGEL
I’m supposed to be staring at the stars, but I can’t take my eyes off Lib. The rock we’re laying on rubs against my exposed arms and calves, but her peaceful face makes it look like she’s laying on a cloud.
“My mom used to sew,” Lib says, lost in a memory. We’ve been talking for hours out by the waterfall, the same one I took her to before Spain. We came so she could stretch her legs and get some fresh air after the forty-eight hours she’s been trapped inside my house. I hated the idea, thought it was too dangerous, but it’s Lib, so she disagreed.
Now I’m glad. We needed this. Needed something peaceful, something to remind us that there are things outside of this life, good things that have nothing to do with death and pain.
“Well, not used to. I’m sure she still does,” Lib corrects, her happy voice deflating slightly. “But, when I was a teenager, she made my prom dress.”
My eyebrows raise. “Really?”
Her head shifts almost imperceptibly in a nod. “It was green and blue, made out of that frilly tutu material ballerinas wear.” Her lips lift. “To tell you the truth, it was horrendous.” She laughs. “The whole corset part was covered in sapphires and fake diamonds and was just all around too much. But it meant the world to me. Last time I was in my parents’ home, they had a picture of me in that dress sitting on the mantel.” Her smile slowly falls. “Sometimes I’m hard on them, but I know they did the best they could.”
I take her hand and smooth my thumb over the soft skin on the back of it. “Maybe you could move closer to them. It isn’t too late to build a relationship.”
She turns her head toward me, our noses inches apart. “Maybe,” she says, her voice small and unconvincing. In a second, her expression sobers, and she pats my thigh. “You wore a black tux to prom, didn’t you? All I can ever see you as isclassic.”
I blow a breath through my nose. “Is that a good or bad thing?”
She shrugs, her lips pursing mischievously.
My lips pull, but I roll my eyes. “Spain doesn’t have proms. There are fiestas on the street corners every night, so dressing up formally to slow dance to boring music isn’t much of an appeal.”
“Ah, that’s right,” Lib taunts. “You Spaniards know how to do it up right.”
“We do,” I agree playfully but also mean it. I’ve been Americanized for so long being close to Sawyer that I sometimes forget the things I love about my own culture. The buzz of late nights, the siestas, the shorter work hours… It’s somehow slower and faster paced at the same time. I miss it. Before being with Lib became possible, I was excited to go back. Now I’m silently hoping she’ll want the same.
“We do have big graduation parties, though.” A memory of gold banners and balloons, fast music, and pretty girls comes into my mind, but it’s gone in a second, replaced with Dario and his friend I murdered. I was with them that night too.
“Yeah? Did you wear a tux to that?” Lib asks, her tone teasing.
I chuckle. “I haven’t always been thisclassic.”
“No?”
“Well…” I smile and shift onto my side to face her. “Kind of. But no, I didn’t wear a tux.”
She follows my lead and rolls onto her side, her hands moving to rest on my chest while I cup her waist.
“You know I fantasized about this,” she says, her eyes dipping to my lips.
“Fantasized about what?”
Her eyes move back to meet mine. “About being with you, talking just like this. Like we used to in our messages.”
I smooth my hand up and down her side but don’t reply. I’m too busy remembering that time. All the late nights, the disrupted work hours, waking up and immediately checking my phone. I didn’t know what I felt, what was happening between us, all I knew was that I wanted more. I wantedthis.
So I suppose, in a way, I fantasized about this too.
She peers into my eyes, but it doesn’t seem like she’s waiting for anything. She looks like she’s thinking. “This is going to sound crazy…”
I bring my hand to her face, tracing her sculpted cheekbone with my knuckles. “I can take crazy.”
She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes as I continue to caress her face, running my thumb over her temple and savoring the soft skin meeting her hairline.
“I don’t regret coming here.”
I glide my fingers through her hair and rest my hand between her shoulder blades, hugging her to me. “You wanted to help Elsie. I know that.”