Page 32

He’s real. The sunlight does amazing things to his hair, highlighting the softer browns beneath the black dye that’s faded slightly, but it also throws golden light all over the shadows under his eyes and the hollows in his cheeks.

Whether he wants to talk about us or not, he’s coming in.

He’s coming into this damn house right this minute for something to drink and a meal.

I have no doubt he’s spent an inordinate amount of time watching this place, blanketing me in his protective presence even when I can’t see him.

He hasn’t spent nearly enough time sleeping or taking care of himself.

I raise my hand, about to call out when he turns again.

Hell no. There’s no way I’m going to let him leave.

I set the watering can on the railing and fly off the porch, racing down the sidewalk barefoot.

He turns his head and sees me coming. For a second, I think that he’ll dart away, but instead of turning away from me, he twists around and runs to me too.

We clash together in one fluid movement.

His hands wrap around my waist as I leap like we’ve practiced this.

My legs lock around him, my arms secure themselves around his neck.

He tilts his face up, squinting against the sun.

This is the difference. From this angle, the bright light brings out the gold in his left eye only.

His lips tilt up, the white scar at the corner of his mouth stark.

All his scars are painted by the sun, but she’s a kind artist. He’s not beautiful despite the damage.

Every bit of him is wondrous. He doesn’t need the dark to whisper soft blue over his face, wreathing him in shadows.

He doesn’t need to hide. He’s beautiful always .

I can’t help dipping my head and drinking in the scent of him.

His breathing isn’t heavy. Nothing gives him away except the hammering pulse, twinning with mine, leaping in his neck.

I press my lips to it, inhaling that earthy scent that clings to his smooth skin.

He’s so freshly shaved that I almost wonder if he did it right before coming here.

He carries me down the sidewalk, walking like he can’t get us into the house fast enough.

It’s not just for privacy. It’s because he can’t make himself go slow.

We clear the door, and he slams it behind us, setting the locks in place.

He just stops there, like he’s not sure what to do.

The place is a mess, with canvases all over every surface.

It’s not like he can set me down anywhere other than the floor, and even that has limited room.

“Dravin?”

His face actually creases. Not crumples, but his lips pull back as a sound of agony escapes.

“My head is a mess, Kael.”

I tangle my fingers in his hair, pulling the strands away from his forehead, revealing all the twisted scars layered heavily there, drifting down across his temple and cheek, breaking away like rain at the end of a storm.

“I’m sorry for that.”

“Can you know what you want and still be so torn all at once?”

“I think that’s the very definition of a good man. If you’re not at war with yourself, then you’re not doing it right.”

He blinks, his scarred eyelid moving just a fraction slower. I’m so close. I can see all the tiny details I didn’t notice before. “My head is a wreck, but I know what’s in… other parts of me.”

I press my hand over his heart. No one thinks with this and it’s corny, but I don’t fucking care. “Here?”

He nods. “It’s just as burned and scarred and drowned as the rest of me has been.

There are thick layers over it, callouses, not from past loves that have hurt, but from fucking life .

I’m afraid that if I let you break it open, it’s all going to come out.

I’ll be too intense for you. I’ll burn you up and tear you apart. ”

“No.” I kiss along his jawline.

“I shouldn’t be here at all, but I am. I can’t do this halfway.”

It’s a warning, but my face doesn’t care. My body doesn’t care. My whole heart doesn’t care. It should. I’ve had enough grief and pain, rage and regret to last a lifetime.

Dravin’s trying to cloak me in his protection by keeping me safe from the very thing I want.

Him.

I can’t let him.

I can’t let myself do it either.

My smile is way too big and goofy. There’s nothing I can do about it, and I don’t care one bit.

I’ve saved them all up since the last time I saw him.

They’ve been living inside of me, wanting to break free, and now they’ve all been channeled into this one that’s so wide, it’s literally hurting my cheeks.

“I really hate doing things halfway as well.”

I claim his mouth, running my tongue over his lips, feeling the scar tissue at the corner, coaxing him to open for me.

He does on a growl which is dangerously and deliciously close to being unhinged.

I angle my face so that I can kiss him deeper.

He kisses me back like he’s been starved, parched, and losing his mind because he can’t sleep and can’t function.

“Wait!” I wrench my mouth from his. “How’s your back?”

“Torturously goddamn itchy,” he curses. “But getting there in the healing.”

“Not painful though?”

I still have my legs wrapped around him and I wasn’t careful about that, or where I put my hands. I might have dug something in and hurt him.

“No. Not painful.”

He fuses his lips over mine, exploring me like I’m the destination he’s spent his whole life pining for and now he’s finally given up the last of his fucks to take that trip.

In a way, this is a trip neither of us have taken before. I want to do this with him, get close, let him see me, let him under my skin, in a way that I’ve never done with anyone else.

“This is crazy,” he pants against my lips before sucking the bottom one into his mouth hard enough to bruise.

It comes away tingling. “Probably, literally unhinged. I’ve never lost my shit.

Not in the worst, most stressful, darkest moments.

You’re right. They did drown me and bring me back.

Over and over and fucking over again. I’ve seen things I don’t want to remember.

I’ve had to make peace with my past. This is more frightening. ”

I take his face in both hands, digging my fingers into his cheeks and neck in an unhinged way.

“Don’t feel like you’re going back on your promise.

This is keeping me safe. You are my safe place, and I will damn well fucking fight for you right back through every single thing that life has coming for us. ”

“It takes more than just… this to make a relationship. Is that what we want?”

Relationship is a huge word, a huge commitment, and basically a mythical fucking unicorn when it comes to my life.

I can’t even fathom that right now, but isn’t that exactly what I’ve been thinking?

Dating just seems so trivial when someone comes into your life and every single one of your senses is completely overwhelmed.

I trip the truth straight from my heart and hand it to him. “I just want to be where you are.”

He presses his forehead against mine. “I’ve never been so in tune with anyone. You said exactly what I was thinking. It’s uncanny.”

“Hey, back there on the porch, I thought I’d conjured you by magic. I just about jumped out of my skin when you came back because I was focusing real hard on making it happen.” I laugh softly, half nervous and half out of my mind as I cling to him. “I’m such a dork.”

“A beautiful dork.”

“If you came back because you want this, even if you think you shouldn’t, then fuck me right now and right here. On the floor. Against the wall. On the front porch. I don’t actually care, I just need you.”

“The front porch?”

“Maybe not the front porch, considering we’re keeping it low key and I’ve never been into exhibitionism.”

He claims my mouth, this time leading the kiss. He throws himself behind it and I can feel his strings coming undone one by one, all his protests floating up in the air, leaving us untethered.

His tongue strokes mine right before he takes us both down to the ground.

He catches me though, laying me down gently.

My fingers tangle in his hair not so gently.

He bites down on my lip, sucking at the sting.

I’m tucked between his thick, muscular thighs and I give it back to him by shoving my other hand between us, driving it down his hard abs in a way that makes him shudder against me. I grab his hard cock through his jeans.

“What if I break you?” he groans, thumping the floor next to my head with a closed fist. I watch his fingers flex and knit back together. He’s not fighting me. He’s only fighting himself and his own head.

“I’m too strong to let that happen. Lots of shit in my life has tried to get me there and it’s never been able to. Trust me, you aren’t as strong as death and you’re not nearly as powerful as grief. That sounds awful. Never mind. You won’t. You just… won’t .”

“What if it’s good and I fuck it all up? What if I get too obsessed?” His hand unfurls, fingers clawing the floor. Mine tighten around his throbbing erection.

“My guess is you’re already obsessed. I’m flattered. I like it. It’s not toxic the way you’re doing it, calling falling for someone from a distance obsession. I think?”

“I don’t know about that.”

“Just fuck it. I can handle you. Physically. Mentally.” Hopefully in every other way. I’m putting on a brave face for my wounded heart. It’s so far from healed, but he’s the reason I have any hope at all.

I jerk his zipper down with too much force. I undo the button with just as much impatience, dragging his boxers down and freeing his cock.

He cups my ass and jerks my hips up into the air. I still have the oversized t-shirt and leggings on that I donned after I showered this morning.