Page 70 of Kill for a Kiss

A whole world of thoughts and feelings, deep as the sea, locked up tight where I can’t touch ‘em. And hell, do I wanna touch ‘em. Justone more time.

She’s sitting there, looking at me, and I don’t know if she’s seeing me or seeing through me. Either way, it hits like a damn sledgehammer to the chest. Freezes me up like a deer in headlights. Or more accurately, a washed-up, half-sober dumbass trying to make eye contact with the best thing he ever screwed up.

Sterling’s doing his patrol, moving around her, saying something soft I can’t hear. Probably asking if she’s hydrated. Or if she’s warm enough. Or if I should be escorted out before I start shedding tears into the empty teacups on the table.

Elle’s fingers twitch at her side like she’s holding something in, like there’s a storm behind those eyes and no place for it to go. And then she blinks. Just like that, I’m sure I’m not in her world anymore.

I inhale sharp, dragging a hand down my face. Blood’s dried sticky along my jaw, sweat’s crusted into my collar, and here I am trying to act like I belong in a room with her. Like I’m not one wrong word away from being told to get the hell out. So I sit and try to make it look casual. Like I didn’t just spend the last thirty seconds debating whether I should crawl back into the forest and pretend this never happened.

She turns away. Can’t blame her. I’d probably do the same if I saw me.

Sterling’s still doing his thing—checking cabinets, fiddling with something in the corner, radiating this wholeI’m in charge hereenergy like I didn’t wipe the floor with him at least once when we were kids.

But all I can look at is Elle. The rise and fall of her chest. The way she’s trying to hold it together when I know her world’s just ascracked as mine. Worse, probably. Because she deserved better. And I didn’t do jack shit. But I will now. I found her. I don’t deserve her, but I can earn something.Anything.

“Hey,” I say, and my voice sounds like shit from half nerves and half withdrawal. “How you been holding up?”

Yep. That’s what I open with. Not “I’m sorry.” Not “You look beautiful, even when you’re going through it.” No, instead, I said the dumbest, most basic line in the world. Nice going, genius.

She looks at me, though. The moment feels drawn out, and I feel like I could die from torture. My stomach does this thing like I swallowed a brick whole. But she doesn’t look away. And that’s more than I deserve.

Sterling’s gaze cuts between us like he’s ready to jump in if I so much as breathe wrong. I almost roll my eyes. He’s got that protective thing going on. Always has, all guarded and defensive. What an emotionally constipated man. But it’s sorta different with her around right now. With Elle, he seems softer. And it pisses me off how good he is at it. I try not to let it show. I focus on her, even though her silence makes my skin crawl.

I remember her silence, her uncertainty. Back when we first met, all I wanted was for her to let me in. I was patient then, but now, my patience is running on fumes. Because she used to talk to me. Laugh with me. Looked at me like I was someone worth trusting. Worth being around. But now? She’s quiet… Going cold turkey has wrung me out, left me raw. It’s fucking clawing at me. But I rein it in the best I can.

Sterling sets down three mugs without a word. Hers, mine, his. Then he sits. Right beside her, naturally. Of course. And I can’t take it. I can’t sit here like a ghost while the man who swooped in when I fucked everything up gets to be the one she leans on.

“Just say it, Elle.” The words come out sharp. “Whatever it is, just say it.”

She raises her hand, hesitant, and fans it in front of her lips. “Your face…” Her voice is soft like she’s worried she might make it worse by saying it out loud. “It’s bad.”

I let out a dry huff. “Yeah, well. You should see the other guy.”

The joke lands like a dead fish on linoleum. No one laughs, not even me. Elle doesn’t even give me a pity smile. Sterling doesn’t say anything, but I feel his stare again. That judging, cold-as-hell silence he’s so damn good at. I don’t look at him. I keep my eyes on her. She leans forward just a little, like she’s thinking of saying something else. Her lips part, then she looks down at her hands.

And just like that, I’m not even a maybe. My gut twists, and of course, I do something stupid. I push. As fucking usual. “Did you miss me?” I shoot it out like a joke, try to throw it with the same grin I’ve used to dodge a hundred other uncomfortable silences. But my voice betrays me. It came out raw.

Elle lifts her head, and yeah, I know it immediately. I messed up. Her lips part again, searching for the right words. Maybe there’s an easier version of the truth she wants to say. But the fact that she even has to think about it? That’s the part that kicks me square in the chest.

Then she says, “I mean…it looks bad. Like it hurts.”

I huff out a laugh. “Flattering.” I try to smirk, but it’s tired, same as the rest of me. “You sayin’ I’m only easy on the eyes when my face isn’t rearranged?”

She presses her lips together. There’s that look again. “I’m saying you shouldn’t be getting hurt like this, Stan.”

Those words land harder than any punch I’ve taken.Not for me, she doesn’t say that part at the end, but it echoes in my head. She hates that I’d let myself get wrecked for her. But I would again and again. It’s a miracle I don’t say that out loud.

I just lean back in my chair, stretching my arms over the top like I’m fine. I’m playing cool and casual, hiding how I’m slowly being sliced by her voice.

“Eh, I’ll live. Got a thick skull,” I mutter, tapping my temple. “Oneof my better qualities. That and an unhealthy talent for screwing things up.”

She doesn’t laugh again, or smile. She keeps watching me. It makes me twitchy. So I talk.

“Besides,” I go on, aiming for a lighter tone, “Sterling’s the broody one. If I start acting mopey too, who’s gonna keep the vibe up around here?”

That earns me a little laugh from Elle. Barely there, but I’ll take it. A win’s a win.

The silence creeps back in after that, though. And it’s heavier than before. My knee starts bouncing. Can’t help it. My body’s still got that jitter from cutting myself off cold, and my heart—yeah, it’s not doing much better.