An intrinsic connection to a person was never at the forefront of my mind. Nor was it ever a possibility I entertained whenever Marlow would wax poetic about it during our nights out, dragging Avery in on his delusions after a few shots and a beer to chase away the burn.
It had no bearing on me then. And stupidly, I thought that would be a forever thing.
Now here, with Terran whispering my name as I peeled him clean of his clothes, leaving him in only a lacy thong that tied at his hips and did little to hide his straining erection, I felt like a fool.
One who had deluded himself into thinking he was above the mere fleeting conflicts that came with getting attached to someone. I’d had a false narrative in my head about being immune to caring that deeply, to ever opening myself up, dropping my walls, to let someone in long enough for them to burrow in deep into my heart.
Why would I ever when that could lead to something as earth-shattering as heartbreak?
Only fools allowed that to happen. Only fools pretended that the worst thing in the world to die from wasn’t broken bones or a failing organ system—that it was, in fact, a shattered heart.
There were demises far worse than death. A long and excruciatingly painful stretch of time that carried on far longer than the soul could handle once your other half decided to call it quits, moving on from whatever life you built and finding that happiness with someone else.
Absolutely fucking never would I do that to myself—never would I allow myself to fall into that trap, no matter how tempting it seemed from the outside.
Yet, as I pulled at the ties keeping his panties around him and parted Terran’s legs, sinking deep into him and feeling his body and walls wrap tightly around me, until neither of us were separated by anything other than a thin layer of latex, I didn’t know what I believed in anymore.
Too much time had been spent crafting this safeguard around my heart, all for it to come crashing down the moment acop with too much passion and compulsion for the greater good in his heart was laid on my operating table.
He’d coaxed me in with something so simple, a tease of a fantasy I’d long since given up on finding anybody to share with, and kept me tethered to him with nothing as easy to push away.
When did I become this?
When did I allow myself to want anything more than a quick lay?
His groan against my lips as I sealed my mouth around his, sent my heart pattering in my chest. So foreign and alien-like, I wasn’t sure what to think.
When all of this inevitably ended, how would I be able to pick up the pieces when I was forced to walk away?
My need to keep him, to possess and have him, were far outweighing my better sense to keep things at arm’s length. Yet, no matter what I did, no matter how many times I told myself none of this meant anything, it was all a sham, a lie.
I was never going to be the same after this.
And I wasn’t sure how I was going to survive that fate.
CHAPTER 21
Terran
I grazedmy fingers lazily through bluntly cut strands of his dark hair, sparsely peppered with threads of silver that gleamed a little in the faint light coming in from the windows. Thick and dense when I spliced them apart, the smooth texture soft between my fingers. Such a contrast to the hand trapped under me, calloused and worn from the countless hours holding fine instruments that sometimes were the only bridge between life and death.
Funny how we’d managed to end up this way two times in a row: passed out after sex and curled up under the covers with barely any room separating us. Only this time, when I’d rolled over to slide out from underneath the warmth of the sheets, an arm had snapped around my waist and hauled me back with a half-asleep muttering accompanying it.
Surprise was an understatement when I first felt the weight of Silas’s head on my chest after he’d rolled me onto my back with barely a thought. His ear pressed directly over my unsteadyheartbeat, relaxing only when I felt his breathing even out once more.
The gentle pulls of his breath tickled against my skin, raising the hairs on my arms while I fought the urge to shift him just enough to see that peaceful expression I knew he wore. To take in the relaxed lines of his face and lashes that fanned against his cheekbones, dark and long. A stark contrast to the harsh features that made him so striking when he was awake. The sharpness of him would be gone, softened by sleep, leaving him looking younger and almost vulnerable.
My heart squeezed at the intimacy of it all—a quiet ache that bloomed in my chest and got harder to breathe through as we lay there in the peaceful stillness of his room. My rampant and uncontrollable desire to savor the moment before the morning light broke us apart terrified me into keeping still, not wanting anything to stir us into separating before I could soak it all in.
Whether he’d meant to pull me close like this or not in his half-asleep state, I wasn’t going to question it. His heavy weight on top of me was comforting, as was the arm wrapped under me to keep me trapped while his other hooked up near my face, his fingers just barely brushing my cheek with every rise and fall of his shoulders. A feather light graze that sent a shiver racing down my spine.
All of this was so... familiar. Like we’d been doing this for years instead of stumbling into it by accident.
I wanted to memorize him like this, commit every detail to memory for the moments when I’d inevitably feel the cold absence of his touch. Because no matter how much I wanted this to last, I knew it couldn’t.
Silas wasn’t mine—not really. And I wasn’t his. We were just... whatever this was.
Temporary.
