“Yeah. Actually, I can.” I laugh, and she crosses her arms over her chest. “But I’d like that. I need to know where you are for my own sanity because, right now, it feels like you’re in the fucking walls.”
She takes a step closer, tilting her chin as if she’s bracing for a fight she already knows I won’t back down from.
“I need you to remove the cameras.”
“Not yet.”
Her expression hardens. “Why not?”
“Because I’m not living there with you yet, and I need to be able to see you.”
“You can call me.”
“It’s not enough.”
“You know I can’t live like that, Phoenix.”
“And I can’t live in the dark,” I fire back. “You know that. So what do we do?”
“If you want me to trust you and let you in, then you have to let me breathe.”
“It’s not about controlling you. I don’t want that.” I turn away from her and stare out at the city—lights are scattered like fire below us, so far beneath us that it feels like we’re the only two people up here in the clouds. “I don’t want to take anything from you. I just need to know you’re okay. I need to have eyes on you when I start to?—”
She gasps behind me, cutting off whatever the hell I was just saying, and I freeze mid-sentence before whirling around to face her.
Shit. Shit.Shit.
I know exactly what she’s seen—the physical proof of how far gone I’ve always been for her. I’d hoped she wouldn’t see it yet, not when she was finally letting those walls crack open for me.
But here we fucking are.
I don’t flinch. If anything, I stand a little taller because there’s no shame in loving her the way I do. This is who I am, and I’ll own it with my full chest.
“Turn around, Phoenix,” she demands.
I move slowly, my arms falling slightly away from my sides as I turn, allowing the shirtless expanse of my back to be laid bare before her. The wings stretch wide across my shoulder blades, bold black lines that are darker near my spine and fade as theyreach outward, the feathers curling and twisting at the edges like they're caught mid-burn.
I feel Shannen before she touches me, but when she does, when her fingertips finally make contact with my skin, my entire body tenses.
“Phoenix wings…” she breathes out. “My phoenix wings.”
Of course she recognizes them, considering they came from her hand first.
“Yeah. Yours.”
“When?”
“When we were in Indiana.”
“Do you still have it?”
“Of course I still have it,” I answer, turning just enough to catch her eyes over my shoulder. “I know how much you love it.”
“Then why did you steal it?” Her jaw goes tight, and I can see the hurt flaring in her eyes.
“Because those wings were always meant for me, and I wanted them on my skin.”
I refuse to apologize because when it comes to her, I don’t do halfway, and I sure as hell won’t ask for permission to love her the way I need to.
