am, I nearly say, only this time, the truth doesn’t leak out. It gets lodged in my throat. Staring up into her eyes, into her soft yet seductive smile, I suddenly don’t feel so lost or lonely. Suddenly I feel found and complete. Satisfied almost, which is strange and a bit ill-fitting. Like a suit a size too big, I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to grow into but hope I will all the same.
Cupping the back of her head, I draw her lips down to mine.
And the moment they meet, the moment our tongues touch, that now familiar thunk pulverizes my insides with a brutal pounding. This isn’t a shift or a feeling. This is an onslaught.
But instead of being afraid of it, I almost welcome its pain.
I never felt alive until Eden Dawson walked into my life and destroyed it. Here, with her in my arms, I’m terrified to admit that this feels like how it was always meant to be. Even if the truth remains.
“I can’t keep you, Eden.” But I’m not sure I can let you go now either.
Twenty-Two
EDEN
Oddly enough, I slept like a baby after Henry and I fell back to sleep somewhere close to dawn. We spent the next few hours after we ate with him inside of me and I gave myself the pep talk. The one where I convinced myself that I was getting exactly what I needed and wanted.
I don’t want a relationship. I only want sex. My emotions are not involved. Henry is not the right guy for me.
Even if I knew I was lying.
Whatever happened in that water, it seemed to change something in him. The problem with that change is that I can’t tell if it’s for the better or not. He was scared and held me and washed me and took care of me. He may very well have saved my freaking life because I looked up those damn jellyfish and those fuckers don’t mess around.
They’re venomous as hell, killing quickly and efficiently.
But despite those confessions he made about being lost and alone, it also felt like another part of him broke. And in breaking, he shut down along with it. I felt it. I saw it. I heard it when he said he can’t keep me. I tried not to think about it. I tried to push it all away…
Whatever, it didn’t keep me up.
I didn’t allow it to. Trying to figure Henry Gauthier out is a slippery slope into a vacuous minefield otherwise known as the feeling zone. It is a place I cannot allow myself to go. He promised not to love me. That he can’t love me. Enough said.
I need to take care of me and protect my heart.
That is rule number freaking one with this.
Which is why shortly after Henry passed out and dawn was breaking through the horizon, I slipped out and came back to my place to sleep alone. See, I’m being smart. I’m sticking to the rules. Thank all miserable fuck we don’t have work today because the guys all texted last night that they want to take today off. I’m not upset about it. I’m exhausted.
I think yesterday rattled all of us a bit and we need the mental breather.
Coffee in my hand and a yawn on my lips, I twist to crack out the kink in my back. Just as I’m taking my first sip, the back door of the house bursts open and Henry storms in.
Probably should have locked that when I came in this morning.
Intense green eyes narrow in on me causing my heart to instantly speed up.
He’s dressed in jeans, a plain white shirt—Lord help me, why is that so damn sexy—and a freaking devilish smirk. He crosses the room and stops right in front of me.
So close I try to step back, only to bang into the counter behind me. His scent hits me like a two-by-four and I blindly inhale a little deeper. My neck cranes to meet his eyes, blinking at him while I attempt to acclimate to whatever the hell it is he’s doing.
He steals the large mug from my hand, takes a sip of my sacred coffee, and then sets it down on the counter beside me.
“Hey—” I start to object, only to have his lips snuff out any protest I had. Strong hands rake through my hair, cupping the back of my head and holding me just so. His mouth fuses with mine, stealing my breath and