Finally, Killian lifted his head, and so did Elyse. He stared at her with pure admiration, but it soon faded to concern.
“Why are you crying?”
Confused, Elyse lifted her hand to her face, but her fingers were wet from the lake. She laughed at herself and trusted Killian’s remark. She hadn’t known she was crying, though it wasn’t all that surprising.
“I… don’t know,” she answered truthfully.
Killian pulled her in and kissed each of her cheeks in turn, his lips absorbing her tears. “There,” he said with finality.
Elyse lowered her chin, and her hand found its way to Killian’s chest—to the scar marring his entire pectoral. She spread her palm flat against it, as if she might claim his pain as her own.
“There’s so much I don’t know about you,” she said softly. She wasn’t entirely sure where the thought had come from. It felt as if it had been burrowing in the back of her mind for days, and now it finally freed itself through her lips.
Killian tilted his head. “You know how I got my scar,” he said gently, if a bit confused, assigning her statement to where her attention seemed focused.
“I know.” She shook her head slightly. Her thumb caressed the dark, scarred skin on his chest as she thought aloud, “It’s not that. It’s so many other things.”
Killian touched a finger to her chin and forced her gaze to meet his. His face was sobered with patience and encouragement as he waited for her to explain.
Elyse said, “I didn’t know you like cream puffs.”
Killian laughed, and any apprehension in his eyes melted away. He smiled, bright and wide, even as Elyse’s expression remained serious.
“You’re upset because you didn’t know I like cream puffs?” he teased.
“It’s not only that. I didn’t know you have family in Brigmoore either. And the games! You were in the fucking Sammerhan Games! How did I not know this?”
Killian’s grin faded. “Well, it never came up,” he said simply.
“You mean because all we do is fight and then fuck and then get separated,” she rattled off.
“Are we fighting now?” Killian asked, a hint of jest in his voice.
“No,” Elyse sighed. She took a deep breath, trying to collect her thoughts. She wasn’t angry at Killian, or anyone. She merely felt a pain she couldn’t label. “I just want to feel like I know you.”
“You do know me,” Killian said with confidence. “You know what matters. You know I’ll do the right thing, even if it makes me a pain in your ass.”
Elyse laughed at that, a bit of the tightness in her chest releasing.
“You know that I adore you,” Killian continued, “and that I’m loyal and a little brilliant. Not to mention hilarious.”
Elyse snorted softly. “Now you’re bragging—poorly, I might add.”
“The point is,” Killian said, punctuating his words, “that we know each other’s hearts, even if we don’t know every little detail about one another.”
Elyse started to smile at that. Killian went on, “But if it’s important to you that we know morefactsabout one another, then I have a proposition.”
Elyse quirked one eyebrow. “I’m listening.”
Something mischievous shone in Killian’s eyes, reflecting the moonlight. “You said all we do is fuck and fight and get separated. Well, I have no plans to fight with you, nor to ever let you out of my sight again.” Perhaps on impulse, his hands squeezed tighter around her sides. “But I certainly can’t promise to stop fucking you.”
Elyse’s cheeks heated, along with the space between her legs.
“So I propose that each time we do this,” he said, gesturing to their entangled bodies, “we share one interesting detail about ourselves.”
Elyse considered, biting her lip. She nodded. “You have a deal,” she replied, extending her hand in the cramped space between them. Killian shook it.
Elyse laid her head on Killian’s chest and listened to the soft pounding of his heart. “Do you want to go see our friends?” Killian asked quietly after a few moments.
