Page 26 of Raziel

I put the truck in drive and headed toward the interstate—toward Maya.

Five minutes in, I U-turned hard enough to scrape my rims. Fuck this. I was going home.

I needed to stop myself, because I already knew what this was turning into—and it wasn’t going to end well.

Maya and I were tainted by the tides—

wrong time, wrong lives, too much standing between us.

But I wanted her anyway.

Wanted her in ways I didn’t even have words for.

She made me forget about responsibility, about promises I never wanted to make.

I’d been thinking constantly about the night she used me—and didn’t even pretend it was anything else.

We fell asleep on the sofa sometime after finishing a strawberry milkshake together.

I woke up with her head on my lap.

I watched her for longer than I’ll admit.

She slept like a wild thing. Tossing, mumbling, drooling—her hand flat on my chest, like she was holding me in place even while she dreamed.

Hair everywhere. Lips parted. No guard up.

Watching her made me feel like a thief.

I could never openly admit the visceral emotions she stirred in me—and she deserved to know.

Deserved to feel wanted out loud, not just in those quiet moments when no one was watching.

I hit the brakes, took the next exit, and looped back.

I was going anyway, because the thought of not seeing her today made my chest ache.

I had too much shit on my plate, I thought, as I parked outside her little shack and got out of the car.

She opened the door before I could knock—wearing a soft pink robe.

One eyebrow arched. A smirk on her face. “Back so soon?”

I held up the batteries and coffee. “The fire alarm was beeping last time.”

She glanced back at the damn thing. It was silent now.

Then she looked at me again, leaning on the doorframe.

“You drove all the way over here to give me batteries and the coffee my fridge is already full of?”

I smirked.

Didn’t answer. Didn’t know what to say.

She stepped forward slowly, then reached for me without warning. Her arms wrapped around my waist, face pressing against my neck.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her lips grazing my skin. “That was sweet of you.”