Maybe. I don’t know where his head was at that night. I don’t know where his head’s atnow, and I realise he hasn’t answeredthe question the nurse in me wants him to. But I don’t know how to lead him back to that. If I can live with doing it when he’s already giving so much.
But in the end, I don’t have to lead him anywhere. He traces the ink lines on my wrist and gives me the good news.
“I still have AFib. It’s never gone away. They said I’d probably end up with the other one too.”
“POTS?”
“Aye, that’s the one. And I think they’re right, seeing as I can’t take a hot shower longer than a couple of minutes without passing the fuck out.”
I file that away with the symptoms I’ve already seen in Mal too many times to discount. “How do you feel about that?”
His gaze flashes to mine and he jabs a finger at my face. “Damn, you’re good.”
“At what?”
“Lots of fucking things, if any of my daydreams are true, but right now you’re giving me a masterclass in deflection.”
“It’s not a masterclass, Mal. Anyone can do it.”
“Hmm.” Mal brings his chest down on mine, his mouth so close I can almost taste his lips. “Say my name again and I might let you get away with it.”
“What will you do if I don’t?”
“Misbehave.”
I don’t need the emphasis, or the subtle rumble in his voice, to know he means it. But it’s a threat I like, so I say nothing, daring him to do his worst, and he blows my mind with another kiss that feels like he’s committing my mouth to memory.
And maybe he is, because this is definitely not happening again.
It can’t.
Wecan’t.
Jack’s on my mind. Sol.They need Mal.But I’m as weak now as I was the night I met Mal. And I kiss him back anyway, accepting thejust this oncemantra that began in the water is going to have to claim the whole day, or however long we spend here. I let my hands wander, learning the map of his bare back—the bumps and ridges of muscle, and the rough texture of a dozen scars. The flex of his hips as he responds to my touch and heady energy builds between us, despite the effort we’re both putting into taming it. An ache blooms in my groin and I feel his dick hard against my leg. Feel it in my hand as self-control abandons me and I palm him over his clothes.
Rigid heat greets me, and Mal tears his lips from mine to ravage my neck. To knock my hand away and grind againstme.
Fuck.
Fuck.
It’s too good. I need more.Heneeds more, I feel it in every bite of his lips and press of his dick against mine.
I feel it in the thunder of my own heart and the lack of concern for his as the soft thrum in my blood becomes a wild wall of noise.
That noise, though. It doesn’t last. The fire between us burns something fierce, but a strange sense of peace wraps around it like the sweet smoke from Sol’s incense sticks. Like warmth seeping into dead limbs, bringing them back to life.
Even my breath stills.
Mal’s body bearing down on me begins to feel like an anchor, one I grab onto with both hands as his calloused palms sweep my torso, sliding over my abs, up my ribs, and to my chest, as if they belong there.
As if he’s mine.
And I’m his.
It’s so fucked-up and wrong, but for the longest time it feels so right. The sun has dipped behind a cloud by the time we break apart.
Mal has eyes that’ve seen a different world to mine. He’s strong, even if he hasn’t felt it since he’s come back to Porth Luck. But as he stares at me with a wrecked gaze, and I stare right back, I know we’ve made a mistake.