“You don’t need them,” I say as I thread my fingers through hers. “It’s just us here.”
“Okay,” she says quietly as I lead her into the bathroom attached to my room. Her footsteps are soft as they pad across the tile floor.
I stop at the shower, leaning in to turn on the water before turning back to her. “Stay with me tonight?”
Her eyes widen and her lips part slightly. “Are you—are you sure?”
“Yes,” I say, without any hesitation. “I want you here, with me.”
“But you said you don’t let anyone stay the night.”
I push open the shower door, pulling her into the hot water with me. “No one but you, Sunny.” I swallow hard, turning our bodies so she’s directly under the stream. “Never anyone but you.”
She tips her head back as I collect her hair and smooth my hands over the length of it. She’s silent, but her hands reach for me, wrapping around my waist as she pulls me closer to her. Igrab some shampoo, squirting it into my hand before working a lather against her scalp.
She hums in approval, relaxing against me as I wash her hair and then she washes mine. A comfortable silence wraps around us as we take turns washing one another.
I pull her to me, the warmth of her body seeping into mine as we stand beneath the stream of water. She stares back at me and I get lost in her eyes, lost in the hues of blue shifting in her irises. She stares right through me, right into my soul.
She’s the only person I’ve ever truly felt seen with. She sees past my reputation, past me being a professional athlete. Past the mask that I put on for the rest of the world.
She just sees me.
I can’t help myself as I close the distance between us, pushing her back against the shower wall. My hand slides through her hair, cupping the back of her head as she tips back to look up at me.
My chest constricts, my ribcage like a vice grip around my heart. She stares at me as if she can feel it too. As if she’s aware of those threatening feelings we both swore we’d never catch.
I chase the thoughts away as my mouth claims hers, our bodies melting into each other.
This, the physical connection, is all this thing can be with her…I can’t risk either of us getting hurt.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
JADE
“Julian Hart looked at me as if perhaps my flesh was as malleable as the clay beneath his palms.” - Clara Foss, Painted Inferno
Ican’t believe I actually did it. My first draft is officially finished.
A sense of peace settles over me as I stare at my laptop. I just typedTHE ENDand feel like I can finally breathe. I still have to self-edit and get it ready to send to my editor at the publishing house, but the hardest part is done.
I sit back in my seat, a deep sigh escaping me as I tilt my head back and cover my face. “Holy shit,” I say to myself, laughing as I shake my head.
Pulling out my phone, I findhisname first.
Jade
I finished.
Matteo
Without me?
Jade
My book, Matteo.
Matteo
