Page 40 of Beneath the Mountain Sky

I nod, squeezing my eyes closed as tightly as I can so I don’t unintentionally—or intentionally—ogle him. But as he brushes past, that scent of fresh rain and cut wood and mountain that’s all Killian washes over me, and I can’t help it.

My eyes flicker open, and I see him gloriously naked from the back.

Firm ass.

Massive, muscled thighs working as he stalks down the hallway toward the bathroom.

Tattoos ripple across his back and arms, but as he reaches the bathroom, he glances over his shoulder at me.

I quickly close my eyes again—but not before I catch his half smirk—and heat floods my cheeks.

The door clicks closed, and I release a heavy breath, the dull throb between my legs reminding me that I almost died, and I may have broken up with the man for some unknown reason, but it certainly doesn’t mean that I’m not still attracted to him.

In my head, it was yesterday that he had me bent over that couch, pounding into me after the Memorial Day Festival—because I lied and didn’t want to tell everyone my last memory was of getting railed rather than of the festival itself. But after that, going to sleep that night, it’s blank…

What went so wrong?

I can’t imagine anything that would explain what Raven says happened—that I would rush to pack my things and leave the mountain for good. That would make me stay away for an entire year without ever coming back to see her or try to clear the air with Killian…

Releasing a heavy sigh, I make my way to the couch and settle into the corner while the sound of the shower running in the bathroom and the rain pounding against the roof and the glass fill the silence, punctuated by the occasional pop and crack of the wood in the fireplace.

Flames leap and dance, casting long shadows across the pine floors.

I stare into the fire, racking my brain, diving deep into my memories, trying to make more come to the surface.

Pitch black greets me.

My temples throb.

But I keep going.

Pushing.

Trying to delve deeper.

A flicker of another flame.

Different from this one.

Smaller.

My heart pounds.

My skin heats, growing clammy?—

“Willow, are you all right?”

I jerk at the sound of Killian’s voice as he steps into the living room.

His brow furrows deeply. “Shit, did I scare you?”

Shaking my head, I wrap my arms around myself. “No, I…”

“I’m sorry.” He takes a tentative step toward me, running a towel over his still-wet hair in a pair of gray sweatpants and a white T-shirt that clings to his pecs. “Where were you?”

“I don’t know.” I clamp my eyes shut, trying to bring back the memory. “I was just looking at the fire and then…”

Releasing a frustrated sigh, I let my lids flutter open.