“What, liketwo months?”
I peered up at him, realizing how much I would miss him.
“I love you,” I admitted, because there was nothing left to say. I couldn’t keep him, and I could not let him go.
“You’ve never said that to me before.” His brow lifted. “Why say it now?”
“Because I lost you today.” A tear slid down my cheek as I looked away. “And now there is nothing left to lose.”
Wolfe’s lips twitched, the storm in his body pulling at the gravity in the room.
“The only way you lose me,” Wolfe tilted my chin until our eyes met, “is if I am dead. And even then, I fucking doubt it. Threx might own your soul, Daph, but I have your body, and I’m keeping it for fucking ever.” His hot lips brushed my forehead before he padded away in damnable strides. “Enjoy your trip and call me the moment you land. And Daphne,” he said, turning at the end of the hall, “tell Threx.”
But I didn’t want to. It took me one second to text Celeste that I was in and three more to buckle in the hallway.
Suddenly, I couldn’t take another step.
In defeat, I rolled the luggage into Thay’s bedroom, shutting the door behind me with a familiar thud.
The room was small, with a single window and a full bed tucked into the corner, taking up most of the space. Various doodles and sketches were pinned to the walls, and I dragged a finger over the newest one of me sitting on a ledge overlooking the city, before turning to reach for the pale blue dress I’d left hanging in his closet.
It reminded me of Wendy Darling, and the irony of lost boys made the sheer fabric feel almost inevitable. But anything was better than the kill sweats I was wearing, stained with placenta and random splotches of blood.
I stripped off my clothes and fed them into the incinerator hatch. Every member had one, and aside from the few T-shirtsstowed in the single drawer of their nightstand, they never wore the same thing twice.
Rubbing my eyes, I glanced at Thay’s shower until I was standing under the hot stream with my forehead pressed against the dark tile. Everything inside me hurt. My muscles. My thoughts. That line at the center of your knee that dies when men put their mouths on it. I wished I could peel back my skin and let the heat sink deeper, but there was no magic left in the Underworld, only black death and the promise of alcohol.
Bang.
I didn’t flinch when the door slammed shut or when the sound of Thay’s steps crossed the bathroom floor, every bit of him was my favorite song, and I leaned into the music when he dropped his clothes without a word and stepped in behind me after killing the lights. This man loved to shower in the dark, craving any sensory deprivation that made him invisible.
I let out a breath when the cage of his chest pressed against my spine, five points of pressure digging into my curves as he drew me back into him.
“Mmmh,” he sighed, inhaling my scent until I burned in his lungs.
I leaned into every edge and plane I had carved for myself, into the familiarity of his body fitted to mine. We never spoke about these moments, about the way his cock stayed hard against my ass or how his hands mapped me by instinct alone. We didn’t name it. We only folded together until everything fell into place.
Thay reached over the lip of the shower for the bar of amber soap I hid there and dragged it slowly along my throat, under my chin, lathering my skin, my pulse, my existence. A sound slipped out of me before I was able to stop it when his hands traveled lower, skimming my chest, until both of his soapy palms closed around my breasts. I fluttered as he kneaded, rolling my nipples beneath his thumbs in quiet circles.
Sometimes showers were like this: intimate and nonverbal. Other times, it was simply a matter of hygiene.
Thay’s fingertips drifted down, sudsy and warm over my stomach until they reached my thighs in a slow, deliberate circle. I sank into the sensation, feeling raw and overworked, as his fingers pushed all the uneven pieces back into place.
This was one way he mended me. Attention. Touch. Remembering.
Gently, he dropped to his knees, massaging the soap down my hips, dropping lower until his massive hands swept to my ankles in a breathless stroke.
My body complied when he turned me, pressing my shoulders to the tile while he looked up at me through the steam. I searched his steely eyes, threading my fingers through his soaked strands, pulling him into my stomach, feeling the rest of him wrap around me in a bruising hug. I knew what he needed, but I couldn’t give it to him in the shower.
Reaching over, I turned off the faucet and lifted him to his feet. Thay’s wet hand found mine as I led him out, past the crumpled clothes on the floor, to his bed. Grabbing a random T-shirt, I blotted the water from his chest, taking my time as I moved over him. His body was the very definition of melodrama. Dark and imposing. A trigger waiting to be pulled.
I smiled into the quiet and drew him down with me onto the mattress, opening my legs so he could crawl between them, guiding his ear to the steady beat of my heart.
“Fuck,” he groaned, breathing me in like a dying man as I absorbed the trauma from his body.
I felt it immediately, the tension locked into his shoulders and hips, every bit of last night roping around his neck. I pressed him closer, reminding his body how to breathe, holding him there until he found a steady rhythm with me. And once he did, I didn’t think about the way his naked flesh melded into mine,or the way my frame caged him completely. I ran my fingers through the fine hairs along his hairline until his breath evened out, until the patterns lulled everything inside me that had been screaming.
For now, Maine could wait.