Page 26

I’ve never felt so comforted before. Like my pain took a quick lunch break as soon as my head hit his chest. I don’t hesitate to embrace him, my arms tighter around his middle than I mean them to be.

We stand there for a while, just holding each other. He kisses my temple and nuzzles there. One large hand strokes up and down my back in a soothing caress that melts me. My tension can’t withstand the persistent comfort, but the pain lingers underneath.

“Let’s go back. I’ll call out for lunch. Sound good?”

“Lunch?” I lean back to frown at him.

“It’s almost one,” he tells me hesitantly.

My eyes widen in surprise. I’ve been out of it the whole morning?

“Damon must want me dead by now,” I wince and drop my face back on his chest.

“He’s worried.”

I bet he is. I’m usually stomping around when I’m in a bad mood. I don’t know what I am now, but it isn’t mad. I feeldefeated.

“Give me another kiss,” he whispers in my ear with a hot breath. “I don’t know when I’ll get another chance.”

I don’t hesitate to press my lips to his. I let them linger and brush several more to make sure the affection sticks.

His breath shudders out. He tilts his head to take my lips in a slow seduction. I don’t want it to stop. He feels like air. Something necessary for my survival. Now more than ever.

A trickle of desire winds through me despite my mental turmoil.

Things feelrightwith him. Like I can face anything with him by my side.

When he tries to pull back, I thread my fingers into his hair to keep him close, pressing more over his lips as gently as I can. He responds each time without trying for something deeper again.

“I need to go inside, siren. Before I embarrass us both.”

I draw back to see the dark flush over his cheekbones. His hair has fallen from the knot at the top of his head because of my fingers. I brush the strands behind his ear so I can see him fully. That connection is there as soon as my eyes meet his.

His wet lips twitch up into a confused smile. “What’s come over you?”

My brows furrow as I lightly touch his jaw. “I don’t think I’m as scared of this as before.”

I called Maman for answers and got heartache instead. There’s none of that here. There’s hope. A fresh beginning of something that feels so good that I selfishly don’t want to let it go.

His eyes close, and he presses his forehead to mine. “Good. We'd better get back insidenow,then.”

I laugh at his assurance, feeling lighter than I have all day. Lighter than I’ve felt my whole life.

He pulls back with a fake glare, but his satisfied smile ruins the effect.

The longer the day stretches on, the more I stare at him with a hushed wonder. I’m comfortable in my own skin around him. Like I’ve known him forever. It doesn’t feel like a sudden thing, either. Just something I noticed out of the blue, out of years spent together.

Damon is giving me pointed looks every time Poe’s back is turned. He leaves early because no one has come in. The rush from the scar cover-ups has already faded. He gives me one last glare before he leaves us alone together.

The door closes behind him, and Poe doesn’t hesitate to take Damon’s chair. He’s gone beyond the manners he first used when he came in. He’s wormed his way into my inner circle without me noticing.

He slowly rolls toward me, sitting in my own chair, until our knees bump together. His hair is still in a wild mess. He hasn’t fixed it, as if he’s showing off that I had my fingers there.

My heart leaps at the simple contact. It feels like middle school flirting with an adult twist. His open look of want makes me bite my lip.

A text comes in, and my expression drops. I look at the phone warily as if the thing is about to jump into my hand and stab me in the heart again.

“May I have your phone?”