Outside, the sun is scorching as we step onto the porch, tiny heat waves distorting the view as they roll off the grill. Steaks and vegetables sear over the charcoal as he picks up the tongs, smacking them together a few times before flipping the meat.
Everything is so easy between us, conversation flowing as the goats bleat in the background. There are moments, though, when his frustration with me becomes clear. Discussions of mywork lead to vague half-answers, and when he mentions my made-up cousin, I struggle to recall the lies I’ve told.
The disappointment on his face is covered with a smile, but it doesn’t make it sting any less. Piece by piece, he’s stolen bits of my heart until the whole thing rests in his careful hands. And it’s not fair. It isn’t fair to feed him half-truths and dodge questions.
Isn’t fair for me to give him fragments when he’s handed me everything, unconditionally.
It’s been such a brief time, but neither of us denies what’s happening between us. His beautiful soul reaches for mine, and mine answers in part—two pieces whose jagged edges fit together, and I’m setting us both up for heartbreak. That much is undeniable. Eventually, the threads of my fragile lie will unravel, and the inevitable destruction will rest on my shoulders alone.
How long can I keep this up?
As if reading my mind, Beau’s knee bumps against mine as he chews on his lip. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”
“Sounds ominous,” I tease, but my anxiety-ridden heart already drums inside my chest.
“I like you, Az.”
A soft smile spreads across my lips as I reach for his hand. “I like you, too. Surely you realize that?”
“I do… I do,” he says quickly, but hesitates as he fidgets with my fingers. “But I need to know where your head is. I’m over here making plans for the future… plans that include you. And that’s on me, okay? That’s entirely on me, but… Az, I don’t even know how long you’re going to be around. How long will you be living with your cousin? Are you here to stay?”
“I want to be.” My whisper is broken, and his lips pull back into a sad smile.
“But you might go.”
My throat tightens, a painful knot that refuses to yield as I swallow, torn between the desperate need to deny the truth and the heavier need to share it.I’ll never leave you, dances on my tongue but dies behind my lips, and, as it turns out, my non-answer seems to be answer enough.
He releases my hand and sits back in his chair, and I miss his warmth immediately. “Beau,” I whine as I chase after him, scrambling from my seat and climbing into his lap. “Every piece of me wants to stay with you.”
“Sostay,” he whispers, frowning. “Stay with me. Don’t leave.”
Ocean water eyes lock on mine, full of emotion as he watches me. Waiting for me to make the next move. Tentatively, my hands wrap around his neck, pulling him impossibly close until we’re sharing the same air. “I wish you could be inside my head for just a second,” I whisper, and he stares, rapt. “Wish you understood how I see you… that you could comprehend how I feel about you.”
“Is it enough to keep you here?”
My eyes squeeze closed as he releases a ragged breath. There are stories of Cherubs who gave up their wings. Countless examples of those who sacrificed their magic and long existence. Who chose a mortal life filled with love rather than an eternity alone.
But the effects of the arrow still burn in my veins, and commitments of that magnitude can’t be tainted by its influence.
“It’s enough for me to promise you I will never intentionally do anything to hurt you.” I press a kiss on his lips. “And to swear that when the time is right, you’ll have the answers to your questions.”
His harsh swallow and the bob of his throat hold a threat, and I brace myself for him to tell me to go. To say that risking both our already-fragile hearts isn’t worth it.
But he doesn’t.
Because he’s wonderful, and giving, and patient, and incredible, andperfect,he doesn’t ask me to leave. Instead, he just says, “Whatever you’re offering me will always be enough.”
“Beau—” I whine as his lips crash into mine, filled with promises, and he carries me into the house. My legs and arms wrap around his thick body, holding on for dear life. The door smacks shut behind us as he rushes past the living room and kitchen, pushing into his bedroom that I’ve only seen in passing until now.
“You’re mine while I have you,” he whispers, dropping me onto the bed, and I’m surrounded by his woody, spicy scent as he settles over me. Mouth demanding, he kisses me as his beard burns at my skin, scraping in that soft friction I’ve learned to love.
Fingers wrap around the bottom of my shirt as he pulls back and meets my eyes. “May I?”
Sudden insecurity descends in a blanket around me. Everything we’ve done until this point has been with clothes on, and I’ve never been exposed to him like this. I nod slowly, and he lifts my shirt over my head, the cotton brushing against my skin as my shoulders lift from the bed. My hands instinctively go to the soft pudge of my belly, but he scolds me with a sharp, disapproving arch of his brow.
“Stop that,” he mutters, guiding my wrists away as he leans forward, eyes still on mine. His lips graze my sternum in a kiss so gentle I can’t even be sure it touches my skin.
Lower and lower he moves, pressing kisses over every inch of my body until he stops over my stomach, leaving a circle of pecks around my navel. “You’re perfect. Every single part of you.”
