Fallen - Lauren Kate [76]
“Punch sounds great,” Cam said through gritted teeth. “Why don’t you go get us a few glasses, Gabbe?”
Gabbe rolled her eyes at Luce. “Do a man one favor and he’ll start treating you like a slave.”
Luce laughed. Cam was a little out of line, but it was obvious to Luce what he was trying to do.
“I’ll go get the drinks,” Luce said, ready for a breath of air. She headed for the card table and the punch bowl. She was skimming a fly from the surface of the punch when someone whispered in her ear.
“You want to get out of here?”
Luce turned around, ready to invent some excuse for Cam that no, she couldn’t duck out—not now, and not with him. But it wasn’t Cam who reached out and touched the base of her wrist with his thumb.
It was Daniel.
She melted a little. Her Wednesday phone slot was in ten minutes and she desperately wanted to hear Callie’s voice, or her parents’ voices. To talk about something going on outside these wrought iron gates, other than the bleakness of her last two days.
But get out of here? With Daniel? She found herself nodding.
Cam was going to hate her if he saw her leave, and he would see. He would be watching her. She could almost feel his green eyes on the back of her head. But of course she had to go. She slipped her hand inside Daniel’s. “Please.”
All the other times they’d touched, either it had been an accident, or one of them had jerked away—usually Daniel—before the bolt of warmth Luce always felt could evolve into a rising crescendo of heat. Not this time. Luce looked down at Daniel’s hand, holding fast to hers, and her whole body wanted more. More of the heat, more of the tingling, more of Daniel. It was almost—not quite—as good as she’d felt in her dream. She could hardly feel her feet moving below her, just the flow of his touch taking over.
It was as if she only blinked, and they had ascended to the gates of the cemetery. Below them, far away, the rest of the memorial service wobbled out of focus as the two of them left it all behind.
Daniel stopped suddenly and, without warning, dropped her hand. She shivered, cold again.
“You and Cam,” he said, letting the words hang in the air like a question. “You spend a lot of time together?”
“Sounds like you’re not very fond of that idea,” she said, feeling instantly stupid for playing coy. She’d only wanted to tease him for sounding a little jealous, but his face and his tone were so serious.
“He’s not—” Daniel started to say. He watched a red-tailed hawk land in an oak tree over their heads. “He’s not good enough for you.”
Luce had heard people say that line a thousand times before. It was what everyone always said. Not good enough. But when the words passed Daniel’s lips, they sounded important, even somehow true and relevant, not vague and dismissive the way the phrase had always sounded to her in the past.
“Well, then,” she said in a quiet voice, “who is?”
Daniel put his hands on his hips. He laughed to himself for a long time. “I don’t know,” he said finally. “That’s a terrific question.”
Not exactly the answer Luce was looking for. “It’s not like it’s that hard,” she said, stuffing her hands into her pockets because she wanted to reach out to him. “To be good enough for me.”
Daniel’s eyes looked like they were falling, all the violet that had been in them a moment before turned a deep, dark gray. “Yes,” he said. “Yes, it is.”
He rubbed his forehead, and when he did, his hair flipped back for just a second. Long enough. Luce saw the scab on his forehead. It was healing, but Luce could tell that it was new.
“What happened to your forehead?” she asked, reaching for him.
“I don’t know,” he snapped, pushing her hand away, hard enough that she stumbled back. “I don’t know where it came from.”
He seemed more unsettled by it than Luce was, which surprised her. It was just a small scrape.
Footsteps on the gravel behind them. Both of them spun around.
“I told you, I