Silent (44 page)

Authors: Sara Alva

Seb opened his mouth. “
You
.”

It was a harsh, scraping syllable. Hardly a beautiful sound by any stretch of the imagination. And barely louder than a whisper. But I’d heard it. I’d
heard
it!

He poked me again, gentler now, and though no more noise emerged, his lips moved slowly and deliberately so I could read every word.

You are my family.

“Oh, God, Seb.” Before I could start weeping like a little schoolgirl, I drew him against me, seeking the heat of his mouth. He closed the distance between us and silenced my stupid fears with a steady, sweet kiss.

We’re in this crazy life together.

I slipped my hands under his shirt, locking onto his back. Maybe he was my mountain, and maybe I was his. I wasn’t going to question it anymore. I was going to hold on for all I was worth.

More kisses followed—his along my cheeks and temples, mine down his neck and into the dip of his collarbone. I even kissed his fingertips, one at a time, as his lids drooped and his legs tangled with mine. And when the warmth from his body and from the small, sun-struck room started to make me drowsy, I brushed his lips one last time and tried to draw away.

He didn’t let me go, and my eyes slowly drifted closed.

~*~

I knew something was wrong before I woke up. Seb’s body was rigid against mine, every muscle tightened and his neck straining like he was trying to lift his head off the pillow.

When I heard nothing for several seconds, I cracked open a lid and saw his grandmother staring at us from the doorway.

I instinctively jerked back, but found myself locked in place by Seb’s unmoving arms. He was wide awake, and staring right back at her with a squared jaw and the fire of defiance in his eyes.

I’d never seen him look so confident before. Where had he gained all that strength? I’d never had that. I’d faked it, sure, but never really felt it. Maybe I could borrow a little of his strength now, to face whatever we had coming.

His grandmother continued to study us, her dark eyes wide and barely blinking. Seb gritted his teeth. I could almost imagine a telepathic conversation taking place between them as the seconds of silence ticked by.

Then, with that same slow beauty I’d seen earlier, her lips spread into a smile.

Seb’s body collapsed back into the mattress. I felt his quickened heartbeat as my hand slipped over his chest and realized he hadn’t been at all sure of this outcome. And maybe some of his strength had been a front, too, but that didn’t make me any less proud.

His grandmother’s expression changed then—into one that needed no words to be understood.

With an eyebrow raised and a finger pointed in gentle reprimand, she propped open the bedroom door as wide as it would go.
And you boys make sure it stays that way.

I met her gaze sheepishly, and the warm smile returned before she walked away.

The moment she disappeared around the corner, Seb grabbed hold of me, crushing my chest in his powerful embrace. Little bursts of air tickled my skin as he laughed, kissed me, and laughed some more.

Eyes bright with happy tears, he wove our fingers together under the handmade quilt.

Welcome home, Alex.

About the Author

Sara Alva is a former small-town girl currently living in big-city LA with a husband, two cats, and an avocado tree. She recently discovered— after a year in her house— that she also has a fig tree in her backyard, which might mean she needs to get out more. But sometimes the stories waiting to be told demand more attention, and when she puts fingers to keyboard, it’s usually to write about journeys of self-discovery, heartache, personal growth, friendship and love. When she isn’t writing, she’s teaching or dancing.

For information, free reads and news on upcoming releases, visit
http://SaraAlva.com/
.

Other Works by Sara Alva

Social Skills

Pura Vida

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