He hums softly, thoughtful, eyes locked on my face.
“Say my name again, Stan.”
My pulse pounds everywhere. “Calix.”
He brushes his nose along my jaw. “Say what you called me the first time.”
My breath stutters while I take in how beautiful he is. He’s the same man I met in September when he swooped in, all silent and mysterious, reviving my heart like he revved it to life.
Taking Kys since I was a kid messes with my memory from time to time, but I remember the exact second he lifted the visor of his black helmet.
One blink and suddenly, I wasn’t standing in front of some armed stranger. Instead, I was staring into the bluest eyes I’d ever seen. Ocean blue and serene. Way too pretty for the situation we were in. I flirted with him like my life depended on it. Because honestly, it kind of did at the time.
But right now, all I see is the strongest man I’ve ever known. Someone who takes the time to notice all the small things I do, even when I’m trying to hide behind a smile.
He’s there to remind me I’m more than a man made of meat.
He listens to my wildest thoughts, to my dumbest ideas.
He fucking completes me.
“Lix,” I whimper, the sound pulled out of me with tremors.
His reaction comes quick. A smirk takes over his swollen lips. A quiet, pleased sound comes out of his chest. “That’s the one, Stan,”he whispers. “Call me that.”
I nod and repeat it like it’s a promise. “Lix.”
He kisses me right after, deep and demanding, stealing the air from my lungs.
After that, time blurs like the heat between us melts it away.
We’re all elbows and mouths and more bad-decisions-turned-good, until the world shrinks down to creaking springs, stickier sheets, and me saying his name over and over again like it’s the only word I know.
It doesn’t take us long to come. We reach our peaks together. Wrapped up in each other too. My body’s sore. My ass is the sorest it’s ever been. But my heart’s full, so absolutely no regrets.
“Hey,” I say eventually once we’ve caught our breath. “Since we’re confessing things?”
Lix tries to open his eyes. He makes a sleepy sound, lookin’ hella dazed.
“Em saw us the other day,” I mumble. “In the shower. And then she caught me naked, brushing my teeth in the morning.”
He blinks at me, brows drawn together. “Wait…What?”
I grin, stealing a quick kiss before I yawn. “Don’t worry, babe. We’ll talk to her tomorrow.”
19
Em
The late morning finds me damp with sweat. My collar’s soaked through, the fabric clinging tight around my throat. It feels as if I can’t breathe.
I blink my eyes open. The room’s the same, with its off-white walls, sunlight diffused through thin curtains. Nothing’s wrong, but my body’s sluggish. My limbs respond rather late when I test them.
Remnants of a nightmare slip away before I try to retain any of it. Fragments linger dimly in my mind. Dark corridors. Closed doors. Warm blood. Cold corpses.
My muscles tense in sequence, shoulders first, then my hands, as though preparing for instruction that never comes.
I regulate through breathing, counting four seconds in, then four out, until my lungs comply.
