Just a word of warning. The final scene in this chapter contains implied violence and at least one scene of nonconsentual sexual contact. The acts are neither glorified nor overly described. "Light of Dawn" is not and never will be a NC/Reluctance story; the scene, however, is crucial to this part of the storyline
.
Light from the morning sun preempted Dawn's dreams. Blinking awake, she watched dust motes dance before the open blinds; flickering white then gold, they drifted in lazy, crazy patterns.
As she rubbed heavy eyelids with the back of her arm, an enormous object shifted beside her. She froze as a stubbly cheek brushed her shoulder. If Daddy happened along and found a man in her bed (let alone
this
man) life as she knew it was over. Never again could she be Daddy's infallible little Sunshine.
Fortunately, the clock beside the bed read five-thirty A.M., a bit too early for Daddy to be up and about. Jeff rolled onto his back and snorted. Gangly legs kicked at the already disheveled bed covers; he was having some sort of rough and tumble football dream, she supposed. In sleep he smiled so innocently, looking more like a schoolboy than the smirking star quarterback at the center of his own universe.
Warmth climbed Dawn's spine as she remembered the ways he had touched her. His voice had been soft, his kisses even softer. They had made such glorious love. Brother and sister, it was supposed to be wrong, yet it had felt anything but.
She had dreamed about their brief but blissful union, reliving the most remarkable night in her nineteen years of life again and again. She wondered if Jeff had similar dreams. If the contented look on his handsome face was any indication, he had. He kicked again; his arms flailed a bit. Using the soft feather pillow to cushion her back, Dawn propped against the headboard, content to watch him sleep.
The comforter lowered a bit, revealing his nakedness. With the heat in her loins cooled by the previous night's passion, the light of the morning sun provided a startling epiphany; he was far too thin.
Despite an impressive list of athletic accomplishments Jeff's shoulders remained more bony than brawny; his arms were puny things.
He should take better care of himself
. His diet was horrendous; as far as he was concerned, if it wasn't fast and it wasn't junk then it wasn't food. Even worse was the alcohol. College guys and beer were synonymous but Jeff took the old cliché to dangerous extremes.
She touched his abdomen and traced ribs that shouldn't have been so visible.
How did this happen?
Where most of his teammates spent hours conditioning themselves in the gym, Jeff drifted from one wild party to the next. Too much alcohol and too much sex, it was a wonder he could function from one day to the next.
He was so lost without Mom, Daddy was too. Dawn tried her best to fill the void. She cooked; she cleaned; she tried to keep peace between the two most important men in her life. Unfortunately, she wasn't Mom. She lacked Mom's talent to hold everything together.
She cleared the shaggy bangs from his forehead. He snorted and yawned then turned towards her. He tilted his mouth, showing her the same smirk he wore after winning the really big games.
In a way she felt sorry for him. He was so distant from everyone, all alone on planet Quarterback. Sure, he had plenty of admirers but the few real friends he had were the worst of influences. Jeff never drank before Choteau; now it seemed he never stopped. The women were just as bad. They were far more interested in being seen with Jeff Kramer than actually being
with
him. So many had merely used him for pleasure, popularity or both.
Those sluts aren't good enough for you, Jeff. Why can't you figure that out
. The thought that next occurred was an odd one,
maybe no one will ever love you the way I do
.
He could be a real jerk sometimes; refusing to visit the children's hospital with the rest of his team proved that. Some of the things he's said to Daddy (and to her) were vile and horrible, even though he never really meant them. Sometimes finding a shred of decency in her big brother seemed impossible but she knew that deep inside he was still the little boy who watched stoically as his mommy wasted away from ovarian cancer. Jeff could hide a lot of things behind an arrogant veneer but he couldn't hide
that
.
In one way he and Daddy were exactly alike. Neither had ever recovered from Mom's death. Dawn had been so young at the time, remembering her more as the nice lady who lived at the hospital than as her mother. Jeff was different. He was ten years old when Mom died, old enough to appreciate the loss, old enough to feel every aspect of the pain.
The funeral was the thing Dawn most remembered about her mother. The somber but pretty organ music, the rainbow light that filtered in through the stained glass windows of their church, and the sweet smell of white calla lilies had been indelibly burned into her young brain. She remembered that Jeff had never cried and Daddy had never stopped. Dawn had cried, but only because she would miss the nice lady and all of the nice people at the hospital.
A hand on her breast brought Dawn back to the present. Jeff kneaded the pliant flesh, squeezing softly. "Sleep well?" he asked. She brushed the bangs from his forehead and nodded. The hair immediately fell back in place, covering his mossy green eyes. Another inch or two and his dark brown locks would touch his shoulders. She wished he would get a haircut, if only to placate Daddy.
Dawn yawned. She sat up and stretched, examining the bed. The covers were halfway on the floor. "Sorry," he said. "I don't have much experience sharing beds."
She snickered. "How many girls have you fed that bologna?"
There was that smirk again. She preferred the sweet schoolboy smile but the smirk was undeniably sexy. "The girls I normally sleep with...they're not necessarily the type I want to wake up beside."
Is he trying to say that I am?
It was all so surreal. Dawn wondered if she was still dreaming. His warm, naked body and the crusty stains on the bed sheets were real enough. Morning had indeed come. She had crossed the monumental threshold from girlhood to womanhood. Her friends would have been so envious, not that she would ever tell them.
Dawn rose, doing her best to primp the bed with him lying there. Jeff cleared his throat and gave her a queer look. Without realizing it, she had passed the night every bit as naked as he. A blush swept across her freckled skin. She searched for a robe or a shirt, anything to hide her nakedness.
