“Are you going to tell me who you are now?”
I sigh. “I’ve already told you. You’ve even said my name at least a hundred times.” Or a variation of it anyway.
He huffs. “Believe it or not,Oxleydoesn’t tell me who you are. Are you a criminal? Is that your profession? Did you just happen to be in the wrong place at the right time to rescue me, or do you always bring randos back to your room and nurse them back to health?Who. Are. You?”
Oh. Which part to begin with? Which question is most important?
“While I’m not a criminal exactly, I suppose not everything I do is legal. I wasn’t there by chance when you were shot. I was there trailing the gang that shot you. Sometimes we’re able to intercept the violence when they know that they have opposition with guns like they do.”
“You had a gun?” he interrupts.
“Yes.”
He shivers.
“I never bring anyone home with me. In the eight years I’ve lived here, there have been four people who have come into my space. You’re one of them.”
His breath catches. I feel him swallow. When he wiggles, I grudgingly loosen my hold, and he rolls over. My hand drops tohis leg, making sure that he’s not in a position where any pressure will be put on it.
“Why me?” he asks, his eyes searching mine.
Something feels really heavy on my chest. I lick my lips and shake my head a little. “I don’t have an answer for that. Other than that I was drawn to you. Iamdrawn to you.”
You’re mine.
His lips are parted, but he doesn’t speak. I try to find another explanation. A better one, but I can’t find words to explain how I feel. Feelings have always been somewhat abstract and difficult for me to explain and interpret. Right now, I feel a little desperate, wanting him to understand but not knowing how to articulate what’s inside me.
I’m completely and totally shocked when his mouth locks onto mine. There’s a moment where I freeze, but then the hand I have on his leg moves up to the back of his head, and I’m kissing him with every ounce of everything in me. Hoping I can pour those confusing, unidentifiable feelings into him, so he understands.
“Thank you for saving me,” he whispers, pressing another kiss to my lips.
I want to lick him all over. To memorize every inch of him. I want to keep him.
“Thank you for bringing me home with you.”
My breath releases. “I can be a bit much sometimes. I’m told I have some quirks, and I’m a little… weird.”
“Ox…”
“Oxley.” I press my lips to his since that seems to be something we do now. Thankfully. I was going to lose my mind if I couldn’t kiss him.
“I’ll try not to?—”
“No,” he says, turning to angle his body toward mine a little more but stopping when he flinches. My hold on him tightens, trying to keep him in place. “Don’t do that. I don’t want a version of you if it’s not the real version. Just authentic Oxley, okay?”
I nod. “Oxley Van Doren,” I say, because it sounded like he needed a full name for that last sentence. Authentic Oxley Van Doren.
His breath catches, and for a minute, he doesn’t exhale. “Van Doren?” he asks.
“Yeah. Are you familiar with Van Doren Technologies?”
He laughs. “You’d have to live on the moon not to be. Even then, I’m sure the company that brought them to the moon and made it possible would be Van Doren.”
Hmm, maybe he knows about the newest partnership with NASA…
“Do they know you fight gangs?”
“Of course. Jalon oversees it all.”
