Page 20 of My End (Iron Fiends #10)

Tilly

The first thing I became aware of was heat.

Heat from his bare chest pressed against my back. Heat from the weight of the blanket tangled around my legs. Heat from the sun trying to break through the gauzy studio curtains and land right on our couch-bound embrace like a spotlight.

I didn’t move at first. Didn’t want to.

Jake was wrapped around me like I was something precious.

His hand was splayed across my stomach, warm and protective.

One of his legs hooked over mine, and his other knee tucked behind mine.

I could feel every part of him, and my skin hummed with the memory of what we’d done just a few hours before.

It should’ve felt awkward. Embarrassing, even.

But it didn’t.

It felt right.

I turned slightly, just enough to see his face.

He was still sleeping. His mouth slightly parted, and one arm curled under his head. There was something peaceful about him like this. Something almost boyish beneath the muscles and sharp jaw and the tension that always lived in his shoulders.

I reached up and gently brushed a stray lock of hair off his forehead.

He stirred; his brows twitched but didn’t wake.

So I let myself just… exist. For once. Curled up in the studio I never let anyone into, with a man who had kissed me like I was the only woman in the world, then worshiped my body like I was his damn religion.

My gaze flicked toward the painting on the easel.

The colors seemed even more vibrant this morning. Like they were alive.

He’d stared at it last night like it meant something. Like I meant something.

Maybe I did.

He shifted behind me then, pressed a kiss to my shoulder, slow and soft. His hand slid across my stomach again and pulled me even closer.

“Mornin’, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice rough and delicious from sleep.

“Morning,” I whispered and turned to face him fully.

He smiled. A real one. Not the cocky smirk he used when people were watching. This one was all warm and sleepy affection.

My heart did something stupid in my chest.

He kissed me again, this time on the lips, just a slow brush, the kind that made me sigh against his mouth.

“Sleep okay?” he asked as he trailed kisses along my jaw.

“Better than I have in a long time.”

He pulled back enough to look into my eyes. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” I nodded.

We lay there for a minute in the silence, the only sounds of the birds chirping outside the studio window. It should’ve felt exposed being in here, but somehow it didn’t. Maybe because I knew no one ever came up here unless they were looking for me, and the only one I wanted to find me already had.

“So,” I said, tracing my fingers across the ink on his ribs. “What’s your deal?”

He blinked, amused. “My deal?”

I smiled. “Your life. Before this. Before Boone.”

He hesitated. I felt it. His fingers paused their slow movement across my hip. “Not much to tell,” he said finally. “Had a life. Made mistakes. Got out.”

“Out of what?”

“Just… the mess. My old life. Found a way to stay clean. Took jobs here and there. This one came up, I took it.”

Vague. Too vague.

But I let it slide for now.

“You ever think about going back?” I asked.

He shook his head. “Nah. Not unless I have to. I’ve got people I could call. Friends who would always have my back. Doesn’t matter what’s going down. One call, and they’d come.”

There was something in his voice. A quiet steel. Not boastful, just… certain.

“They sound like good friends,” I said.

“The best,” he said. “We’ve all been through some serious shit together. We’ve got nicknames for each other, kind of stupid, but it stuck.”

I grinned. “Nicknames?”

He laughed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Yeah. We all earned them.”

“What was yours?”

He paused. A beat too long. “Stretch.”

I blinked. “ Stretch? ”

He winced like he regretted saying it. “Yeah. I know. Dumb, right?”

“No!” I laughed, sitting up a little and leaning on my elbow. “It’s just… you don’t look like a Stretch.”

He raised a brow. “No?”

“I like Jake,” I said softly. “Jake fits you. Stretch sounds like someone who used to work in a carnival doing contortionist tricks or something.”

He chuckled, low and sweet. “They called me Stretch because I could make anything work. Didn’t matter what it was, I’d stretch a dollar to a hundred. Stretch time. Stretch the truth. Whatever had to happen, I made it work.”

“So… you were the fixer?”

He shrugged, pulling me closer again. “I guess you could say that.”

“And now?” I asked.

He didn’t answer right away. Just pressed another kiss to my shoulder and tucked my hair behind my ear.

“Now I’m here,” he said finally. “With you.”

That shouldn’t have made my heart race the way it did.

But it did.

I buried my face in his chest, breathing him in, letting his warmth melt into me like paint into canvas.

“What are some of your friends’ nicknames?” I asked.

“Uh, well, Dice is my closest friend. He’s really the one I know who will be there for me. Then there’s Cue Ball and Yarder.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, I think I am going to stick with Jake.”

We didn’t say anything after that. Just lay there, tangled and quiet.

Eventually, we had to move. The sun was fully up now, and the household below us would be stirring. But for a few more minutes, I stayed in that little bubble with Stretch/Jake and let myself believe that maybe something real was growing between us.

Even if I still didn’t know who he really was.

Even if I was starting to suspect… neither did he.