He didn’t see Maya when he looked at Becca.
He saw his girl. His life. His everything.
He touched the tip of his finger to the lily gracing her shoulder, traced the edge of a petal, the stigma, a leaf. Her skin felt soft, and he continued down her arm, soaking in the details of each individual flower.
Perfection. It existed. Because here she was.
Bruised. Tattooed. Scarred.
His mirror image. Their broken pieces assembled into one heart. One body. One soul.
It’d always been that way between them.
He reached her elbow and continued to her wrist. She’d fallen asleep with her hand tucked under his arm, her palm cupped around his ribs. And he loved it.
He wanted her to know she owned him. Could touch him. Kiss him. Fuck him. Break him. Whenever, wherever, however she wanted. No need to ask his permission. She had it—written in blood—his and hers.
He felt her stir, and he lifted his gaze to watch her eyelashes flutter. Her breathing changed, grew deeper, her chest expanding farther as she took her first fully aware breath of the day.
Even though waking up beside her had been a gift, longing filled him with impatience as he waited for her to open her eyes. When she did, she gave him his second present of the day, and her sleepy smile warmed him from head to toe, inside and out.
“How’re you feeling?” they asked at the same time.
His grin matched hers.
“I’m good,” she said, removing her hand and pulling the covers up to her neck.
“Don’t.” He eased the sheets down, exposing her tattoos. “You don’t need to hide them from me.” He lifted her palm, pressed a kiss to its center, and placed it on his chest. “I don’t see Maya when I look at you, Bec. I only see you, and you’re more beautiful than ever.”
“Stop,” she protested, her smile dying and her eyes growing glassy bright with unshed tears.
“What?” He cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing over her skin. “It’s true.”
Her breath caught, and she lowered her gaze, a self-protection move that served as a reminder. He had to take it slow with her. Let her get used to him. Used to her new environment. It’d take time for her to get to know the people in the house. To learn she could trust them, and more importantly, trust him.
“Can I ask you a question?”
He brushed the hair from her face, hooking it behind her ear. “You can ask me a million questions. But let me ask you one first. Is there someone you cared about? I mean, someone on Big Diomede? Someone I took you away from? A boyfriend, or a lover, or?—”
“No.” She shook her head. “There’s been no one…well…except for Nik.”
“Nikolai Volkov?” Jay asked, his heart stuttering inside his chest when she flicked her eyes to his and away again.
Gaze still averted, she dipped her chin in acknowledgement. “He was a…frenemy, I guess? He had a thing for Maya.” She snorted. “He thought he could save her. But he was kind to me. I mean her. Us? Uh…well, he wasn’t my boyfriend, if that’s what you’re asking. I mean, we weren’t…he wanted to. But I couldn’t…” She sighed and shook her head.
“Sleep with the enemy?”
“Shut up.”
He grinned, and she hauled off and punched him in the arm, close enough to his sore shoulder, he felt the pain shoot down to the soles of his feet. “Ow! Fuck, pumpkin. That hurt.”
“Oh, my God, Jay! I’m so sorry!” She rubbed her hand up and down his outer bicep in a frenzy of regret. “I forgot. I’m such a fucking idiot. I’m too stupid to live. Seriously, I?—”
“Don’t ever say that about yourself,” he growled, concern making his voice sound gruffer than he intended. “You’re the smartest person I know, so if you’re too stupid to live, everyone else on the planet should be six feet under, including me.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. It was a joke.”
“Well, you can’t hide your pain behind a shitty joke and not expect me to react, Bec. You and me. We’re in this together now, and I need you to know, you don’t have to fight your battles alone anymore. I’m here, and I want to help.”
