It spears through me, etching on my brain forever, and the only thing better than that is making him groanagain.
We’ve worked each other up so much that it doesn’t take long for Bhodi’s legs to tremble. I bite him, testing him, and he throws his head back, arching his spine, rooting his hands to the rug to keep himself upright. “Fuck. Tam.”
One day. Thatwhenfrom earlier, it means something, andthe voice in my head that wants to argue is a distant thing I don’t care about. I bring Bhodi to the edge, tempted to draw it out, but seeing him come is life, and I can’t hold back. I give it everything. He shatters, and it’s all I’ve ever craved from giving pleasure to someone else.
It really is fucking perfect, and so is the world we return to as we come up for air. The low light of the room. The quiet crackle of the logs in the burner. The scent of woodsmoke and sex heavy in the air.
Bhodi flops beside me, still breathing hard. There’s an inch between us and I don’t like it. “Lie with me?”
He edges closer, setting his chin on my chest. “You warm enough?”
I’m scorched earth, inside and out, and I need him closer still. I tug him until he’s wrapped around me and it still doesn’t feel enough. “I don’t think I could ever be cold with you around.”
Fourteen
BHODI
I wake up on the rug. The fire’s still going. There’s a pillow beneath my head and the sheets tucked around me. But I’m alone, and anxiety seizes my chest before I even crack an eye.
He left.
I sit up, bringing a hand to my chest, as if I can slow the pace of my heart with my palm. But I can’t. The only distraction I have is the raucous bark coming from outside, and the realisation it’s already growing light.
Rudy.
Of course it is. He barks like no dog I’ve ever known. High-pitched andangry, even when he’s happy. Loud, first thing in the morning. Tam’s neighbours must love him.
You love?—
Fuck.
No.
I scramble from the floor and stagger to the windows that are now concealed by blinds I didn’t know existed until lastnight. Until Tam came over and shut them so we could get naked without giving his brother an eyeful.
If that’s why he came over.
If it even matters.
At the last second, I remember to drag on some sweats before rolling up the blinds. Then I’m greeted by another picture-perfect day on Stardust Lane. Clear skies and trees heavy with snow, swaying in the kind of wind that turns your cheeks pink.
It’s a scene that demands pin-drop silence, but no one gave Rudy the memo. Or Tam as his deep voice rumbles an expletive I don’t catch through the glass.
I wish I could see him, but the fence divides us. I can see the upper floor of his house, and I know he’s not there, so I don’t bother looking. Instead I stand and listen to his noisy start to the day, forcing logic into my brain. He left because he has responsibilities. A dog, a job. A brother who needs him more than I do.
Can’t pretend it’s not jarring to wake up with nothing but the ghost of him left on my skin, though. It’s too familiar, and I don’t like it. It makes me want to go back to bed and pretend the day hasn’t started yet. Shame the universe has other plans for me in the form of the shrill beep of my phone.
I know that beep. It’s the alert tone I set for the hospital. Either I messed up on my last shift, or they need me in on my rest day to cover someone else’s, and I’m not sure which is worse.
My phone is buried somewhere on the bed no one slept in last night. The beeping has stopped by the time I dig it out, but Marla has left me a message that sends me trudging into the shower for a twelve-hour day shift.
It’s then that I notice the cursive script on my arm.
The numbers about to smudge and run beneath the hot spray.
“Shit.” I jerk away so fast I nearly brain myself on the tiles, and dash across the annex to where I’ve left my phone.
I type in the number and save it underTam. Because it has to be, right? Unless a stranger crept in after he’d gone and graffitied my skin. But that would mean two people exist who write with the flair and beauty Tam does, and I refuse to believe that’s true.
