A Little Bit of Tenderness

The roar of the engine comes to an abrupt halt as Embry pulls into our driveway. The lights are all out. My mom must be over at Billy's. I find myself somewhat disappointed that she didn't think to wait for me, or at least leave the light on. I pull off the borrowed helmet and shake my head. I feel the soft, silky fall of my hair against the back of my neck.

Embry holds out his hand for the helmet as I silently offer it to him.

"Thanks, Embry," I say, finding my voice and discovering myself grateful that I'm not alone.

I feel his nearness, our mutual werewolf heat bouncing between our bodies. I look up into his face, one that's been in my mind before. Thanks to my unnatural ability to peer into my pack mates' darkest thoughts, I know many of his hidden secrets. I remember that his fantasies of me don't always circle around sex. The ones that did were unlike those of the rest. These innermost musings didn't make me cringe or curl my lip up in disgust. They were... slightly intriguing, I suppose, considering the roles he places himself in these dreams. But my grief blots his idle fantasies from my mind. The hazy awareness I have of them, however, offers me no bitchy response, or spiteful comment to leave him with beyond my spoken words of gratitude.

My silence, must be unnerving, since his body stiffens. It's a gesture used by so many around me lately, akin to pulling on armor, preparing themselves for my verbal assault. Instead, my gaze travels upward and I watch the soft parting of his full lips as he says with slight surprise, "No problem, Leah. Anytime."

I watch him move to go. Then, something within has me calling out, "Do you mind staying a minute?"

His back is to me now. He stops mid-step, as though trying to make up his mind. I move to sit on the front porch and wait. My eyes stare at the back of his heels. I see him do an about-face and watch him purposefully stride over to where I am. I feel more than see him take a seat next to me on the step below the one I'm sitting on. Yet, his shoulder is still higher than mine. His new manly form has always reminded me a little of a slightly taller, somewhat buffer Lou Diamond Phillips. I certainly like watching the old movie, La Bamba, just to watch that particular actor.

Neither one of us talks. It's a companionable silence as we both gaze out above the tree-line where there is a full moon. It's magically surrounded by a halo, a beautiful, multi-colored rainbow ring.

I close my eyes against its beauty.

"It's my fault Jake's dying," I blurt out suddenly, breaking the night's silence. Embry remains silent, his elbows leaning against the step I sit one, he's still gazing out, waiting for me to continue. "I wanted that vampire to tear into me, to give me a real reason to feel all of this pain that I'm carrying around. I..."

I feel a gigantic bubble well up inside me and I stop, choking back a sob. I rub my palms back and forth on my thighs, trying to get a grip.

His eyes shift toward me, gentle. This look he gives me isn't one of pity. It's almost one of understanding. I can't stand it. I want to lash out at him, but find myself unable to do so. I draw in a ragged breath, close my eyes and hear his barely audible whisper caught by my supernatural hearing.

"Just cry, Leah."

I shake my head vigorously against his soft invitation. I haven't cried since Sam sat me down to tell me about Emily. I will not become a blubbering fool in front of one of the guys. I will not. My toughness is my moniker. Without it, I'm lost to this wave of unbearable emotion.

"I can't."

I steel myself against the throbbing, constant ache, crashing on me now, like the surf upon the shore. He seems to sense when I let loose the tight leash I have reigning in my pain. More importantly, he recognizes my need for someone, a non-judgmental soul to be with me as I let it lash out against me, unimpeded.

I feel him shift, uninvited, scooting closer, nearly touching. He carefully places an arm around my shoulder. A silent urge to reconsider. His strong, big hand cups my shoulder. Sensing I'm not up to resisting, he draws me close, leans me into him. I, too, am shocked by my unquestioning compliance as I curl myself against the solid, bare wall of his chest.

I feel him rub my upper arm as he makes a rough, purring sound. The comforting rumble emanates from deep within him. The sound makes me feel safe, somehow, and I feel the tears well up. My profile fits right under his chin, my cheek against his neck, my chin rests on his shoulder. I register the unexpected pleasure of this skin-to-skin contact. But, aside from the slight clench and quick release of his muscles at our first touch, Embry appears unmoved.

With this clear disinterest, I allow the teardrops to fall.

"It's alright, Leah, just let it out," his tender words are whispered into the night. A fitting sound to go along with my silent weeping.

Should I continue? Or is this sufficient? Let me know!