Page 80 of Kill for a Kiss

At the alarming thought, the warmth from the fire doesn’t reach me now. Instead, there’s a chill.

Sterling breathes out silently and slowly. The small gesture takes all of my attention. Staring at him makes me momentarily forget what I was even worried about. I study him, and in this firelight,he seems so unguarded, appearing tired in a way sleep can’t fix. I wonder if he’s been sleeping at all lately. Then his eyes return to mine, and I feel that gravity that draws me closer and closer to him.

Still, the chill crawls into my veins, making me shiver and unable to stop the frown on my face.

“I don’t like that look on you,” he says.

I blink again. “What look?”

His voice lowers while his jaw works. “You look…scared.”

The words stun me for a second. His gaze won’t meet mine at all now, and the tight line of his mouth makes my heart trip over itself. “Of you?” I whisper in shock. “Sterling—”

“No, it’s fine.” He shakes his head, but his metaphoric mask is cracking. The shadows in his eyes are harder to hide this close to the fire, this close to me. “I deserve it, Elle.”

“Sterling,no.”

He doesn’t respond this time, and the silence he leaves me with says more than he ever could. So I’m left staring at him, my pulse thudding too hard, too fast. It’s trying to reach him because if he thinks I could ever look at himlike that, he’swrong.

He moves closer, hesitation clinging to every line of his body like it’s unfamiliar to him, as if vulnerability isn’t something he wears well, but he’s trying. His brows are tight, the corners of his mouth drawn like he’s trying not to say something he’ll regret. But those eyes…

God,those eyes. Storm gray and framed by strands of silver-white that shine through his black-dyed hair. It’s how I’ve been measuring time lately, seeing more light in the dark. It’s a slow unraveling of a truth he’s no longer bothering to hide, from anyone, from me.

“I deserve it,” he repeats, voice ragged.

I can hardly breathe properly, hearing him say those words again. “No, you don’t,” I say, soft but certain. “You’re the one who saved me,Sterling. I wouldn’t be here without you—”

“You were there because ofme.” His words sound like they hurt to say. They’ve certainly hit me deep, so I can only imagine how it feels for him, to say something so painful out loud, however astonishingly untrue it is.

But I don’t know what to say. My mind’s frazzled from the way he’s talking with such restrained rage, but it’s what I want. I want him to stop hiding himself from me. I want more and more of his real self showing. I want all of him. But how do I even begin to express that much want, when I can barely contain it?

He moves slowly, stopping right beside me, his eyes piercing into my soul. He’s close, so close. Yet still not close enough. Heat rolls off of him, licking at my skin. He looks like he’s bracing for me to react. But I don’t move.

He’s waiting for me to say something, but all I can do is look at him, because what he just said is unbelievable. How could this all be his fault? Clo had me in her clutches. She even manipulated Stan. And for some reason, she cut Sterling off, making sure no one knew he existed. But now I do, because hesavedme.

“Do you not remember, Elle?” His voice drops even more, worn thin. “The…bodies?”

I blink. I do remember. It’s been clear in my mind for a while now.Bodies, lifeless eyes staring at nothing. The memories have been there, merely waiting for me to acknowledge them. I’m not quite ready to, but Sterling’s bringing them to the surface for me to face. But why does he bring them up now? Why hold on to that part of the past? When I know we’ve both seen worse—no, we’ve hadno choicebut to endure worse than that moment, and none of it defines us at all.

“Elle?” he prompts, quieter this time, as if he already knows the answer.

“Yeah…” I whisper back, tilting my head up to meet his gaze fully. “Iremember a lot lately.”

He hisses in a breath. His fists flex.

“It’s okay, Sterling,” I tell him, keeping my voice and gaze steady. “They were bad people, weren’t they?”

His eyes flicker with guilt, or perhaps regret. “You were scared of me,” he whispers.

“No.” I shake my head. “Not you. The bodies. They reminded me—”

“—of your family?” he finishes, far too quickly, far too accurately.

My heart stumbles. “How did you know?”

There’s a pause that stretches too long between us. I don’t press him. I would never, but I see it in his eyes. “Clo had files on you.” His throat bobs. “I read them all.”

My brows knit together, searching his gray eyes, getting lost in how they match the silver-white in his hair. The bits of silver in his hair looks like light fighting through the dark. I get so lost that I don’t know what to say, but Sterling kneels in front of me, his deep voice sounding raw.