Too fast. Too real. Too right.
“Sa–”
His finger pressed against my lips, right where his mouth once was. They ached.
Ached for him.
Ached for his lips.
His gentleness.
“Shhhh– you aren’t in control of your thoughts right now, Rome. Neither am I. Let’s not sabotage. Let’s just– just let this shit happen. Whatever it is.”
“I– I j–”
There they were. On me. His hands. His lips. His chest.
And, then, they were gone. So was he. My cell was back in my hand and my world was spinning again.
I stood outside of his truck, wondering which universe I’d been catapulted into and if we were still in our hundredth and one lifetime. Maybe we had moved on to another one. It sure felt like it, but it didn’t look like it. I was still in the same clothes and he was still… He was still glorious.
“Go ahead, Rome. Go ahead in the house. Because, if you keep standing there I won’t be able to keep my word and consider you human. I’ll consider you mine and might not let you out of my sight again. Not because I’m holding you against your will, but because I’m holding you right where you want to be. Just like you want to be held. Hostage.”
My hand went to my chest.
Steady.
I warned my heart.
Please.
He was much better than the dreams. Much more profound. Much more consuming. Much more addictive. Much more assertive.Much more…
This makes no sense. None of it.
I turned without a word, heading toward the building. My legs felt like noodles. My head felt like a balloon. My chest felt like a valley. Sac had come in and excavated all the fixtures placed before his arrival, clearing me out so that he could begin to build.
Right there.Right there.
I entered my family’s loft with barely a breath to spare. My back collided with the door as I tried to understand how one’s heart could break and mend at once. Slowly, I slid to the floor, anchoring myself in the coolness of the polished concrete beneath me.
My hands enveloped my face. Air rushed from my lungs. Tears stung my eyes. A smile cornered my cheeks. And, an ache so damn good shot through my entire body.
Bzzzzt.
Bzzzzt.
The vibration of my phone was jarring. Without even a glance at the screen, I answered the call, head still buried between my hand and knees.
“Yes?”
“Seven o’clock, Rome. Get pretty and meet me at the entrance of your building. I’ll be back.”
I listened. Listened to his shallow breathing. Listened to his ruffled feathers. Listened to his discomfort. Listened to his desperation. Listened to his deep, apparent desire. Listened to his heart as it led every move he made. I listened.
“Rome,” he belted, full of emotion. Full of feelings he didn’t understand but I had an explanation for. I’d studied them, feltthem, and suppressed them for years and years, waiting until I encountered him to truly release them.
“Yes?”
