"I never said you were helpless.But you're not alone either, no matter how hard you're trying to convince yourself otherwise.This isn’t a prank.It’s someone reminding you they’re watching.”
The words hit harder than they should, probably because they're true.I have been trying to convince myself I can handle everything on my own, that I don't need anyone, that wanting him is just a weakness I can overcome through sheer force of will.
But standing here in my kitchen, with him looking at me like I'm something precious he wants to protect, I feel anything but strong.
"You're in my head," I admit, the words spilling out before I can stop them."You're in my head and I hate it."
Something hot and dangerous flickers in his eyes."Then get out of mine, Angel."
He takes a step closer, and suddenly the kitchen feels too small, the air too thin.I'm backed against the counter again, just like three nights ago, and my body remembers exactly what happened the last time we were in this position.
"I can't stop thinking about you," I whisper."About what happened between us."
"Good."
"It's not good.It's torture."
"Yeah.It is."
Another step closer.He doesn’t touch me, but his presence crowds the air between us, hot and charged.
"Tell me to leave," he says quietly."Tell me to go fix that fence and pretend this thing between us doesn't exist."
"I should."
"But you won't."
He's right, and we both know it.Because despite everything, despite all my rational reasons for keeping my distance, I don't want him to leave.I want him to stay right here, close enough to touch, close enough to kiss, close enough to make me forget why this is supposed to be wrong.
"The kids..."
"Are playing in the yard.They can't see us from here."
His hand comes up to cup my face, thumb stroking across my cheekbone, and I lean into the touch like I'm starving for it.
"This is crazy," I breathe.
"We've established that."
"We can't keep doing this.Can't keep getting close and then pulling away."
"Then don't pull away."
The invitation hangs between us, loaded with promise and possibility and all the complications I'm trying so hard to avoid.
"Hades..."
"I know all the reasons why this is complicated.I know you're scared about the kids, about what it means, about what happens if it doesn't work out."His voice drops to something rough and intimate."But I also know that you want this.Want me."
"Wanting something doesn't mean it's right."
"Doesn't mean it's wrong either."
His thumb traces my bottom lip, and I can't suppress the soft sound that escapes me.The touch is gentle, reverent, but it sets my entire body on fire.
"I can't think when you touch me," I admit.
"Then don't think.Feel."
