The weight of everything we’re facing is pressing down on me, and I can’t help but blurt out what happened while he was gone, “I talked to Nan,” I begin, the words spilling out in a rush. “She came to me, Saylor. After all this time, she finally came.”
His expression shifts to one of curiosity mixed with a hint of concern. “What did she say?”
I take a deep breath, gathering my thoughts. “She said she’s been watching over us and knows abouteverything.” Saylor’s hand stills on my cheek, his gaze locked with mine, encouraging me to continue. “She talked about soul bonds, about how they don’t always have to be just between two people.” My eyes search his for understanding. “She said that what we have… is fate. That the connection we have is because we belong together.”
His eyes soften. “Well, I didn’t need anyone to tell me you’re mine. I knew that from the second I saw you, but it’s good to have it confirmed.”
I bite my lip, the memory of Nan’s words both comforting and heartbreaking. “I asked her what we could do about your… state. She said you’re caught between life and death, in limbo. That you’re lingering because maybe you haven’t fulfilled your purpose yet.” My voice wavers as I speak, the fear of losing him battling with the hope that he still has a chance.
Saylor’s expression turns thoughtful, his gaze drifting away for a moment before returning to me. “That’s a heavy thought. To be alive, yet not really living. Stuck because I couldn’t do what I was born to.”
“I know. And it’s killing me, Saylor. I don’t want to lose you, but I also don’t want you to suffer.”
He scoots closer, leaning in half on top of me. “Slo, you will never lose me, no matter what. And honestly, being with you is anything but suffering.”
His fingers gently stroke my hair, a soothing rhythm that anchors me in the moment.
“I’m scared,” I confess, my voice barely audible.
“I’m here,” he whispers, and I can almost feel his breath against my lips. “I’m here with you, Sloan. And I’m not going anywhere.” He leans in to kiss me just as there’s a knock, and the door is pushed open.
“Knock, knock,” Nash exclaims, a grin spreading across his face as he walks in with a tray in his hands, which he sets down on the desk. His athletic frame is casually outlined by a fitted T-shirt that hints at the time he spends on the ocean, and his jeans hang just right as if they were made with him in mind.
He walks over to the bed and leans in to peck my lips. On my other side, Saylor rolls his eyes. “How do you want your eggs this morning, scrambled or fertilized?” Nash jokes, and I swat at him.
“Fuck, I like that one,” Saylor grumbles while Nash retrieves the tray and motions for me to sit up so he can place it in my lap.
“We’ll go with scrambled for now, but I’m sure fertilized can be arranged once you’ve eaten up.” Nash winks at me, handing me a fork. I can’t help smiling but hesitate when I look down at the eggs. “Hunter made them, not North, so no need to be scared of food poisoning.”
Starting to eat, I find they’re just as good as always, making me moan and close my eyes. When I open them again, two sets of ocean blues are fixed on me.
I savor the last bite of the eggs. “Hunter outdid himself with these,” I comment, setting the plate aside.
Nash takes it and brings it to the desk before returning with fire in his eyes, “So about that other part…” He leans in to kiss me, but I put a finger over his lips.
“Morning breath. Let me grab a quick shower and brush my teeth.”
“Fine,” he reluctantly agrees, laying down on the bed and swatting my ass when I stand. “Hurry, pretty girl, I have to get to work in a few.”
“Yes, hurry, don’t leave me here too long alone with dickhead,” Saylor chimes in, making me snicker.
I gather my toilet bag and hear Nash groan. “Why the fuck is that picture in your room?”
Chuckling, I head to the bathroom, grateful to finally have a place to keep my stuff. I brush my teeth before I step into the shower. The warm water is fucking heaven, and even though I would love to stay in here forever, I hurry.
Seems like I can take a shower whenever now, and I’m going to so enjoy the fuck out of it when two hot Jones boys aren’t waiting for me in my bed. But as I turn off the water, I realize I’ve forgotten a towel and some clothes.
Scanning the bathroom, I spot a drawer under the sink and pull it open, only to find a small Spider-Man towel that barely covers me. “Well, it’s better than nothing,” I mumble, wrapping it around myself, the fabric stretching just enough to cover my tits and barely anything else.
With my hair piled atop my head in a messy bun, I step back into the room to find Nash lounging on my bed, his attention on his phone, and Saylor peering over his shoulder. “That was fast,” Nash tells me, but his eyes are glued to the screen.
What is he…
“Gardening tips,” Saylor replies without looking up. “Super lame.”
I can’t help but laugh at the image of Nash, of all people, browsing through gardening tips.
Because of me?
