He tenses as I approach, somehow knowing it’s me.
“Morgan,” I coax softly.
“I have nothing to say to you.” There’s no hiding the hurt in his tone, even though he tries. But it’s his scent that gives him away. Sadness, frustration, and anger mixed together, leaving a bad taste at the back of my mouth.
This is my fault.
I’ve forced him into this, and I’d do it again in a heartbeat, because it’s not fucking safe for him to stay. I repeat it in my head over and over as I walk around his bike until I’m standing in front of him, and he has no choice but to see me.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, pretending we don’t have a rapt audience.
He fiddles with something on his bike, head ducked.
Look at me.
I want to see his face. Need to fix it in my mind because Goddess knows when I’ll see him again.
Look at me, Morgan.
When his eyes finally meet mine, it hits like a sucker punch. Emotions swirl like a brewing storm, and his smile takes on a bitter edge. “You’re not coming?”
“No.”
“Don’t you want to make sure I go far enough away?”
I don’t grace that bollocks with an answer. He sighs, tipping his head back and exposing his throat. Whether it’s on purpose or not, the effect on me is instant and damning. I’m moving before I even register the urge, grabbing him and burying my face in that sweet spot between his neck and shoulder.
As always, he smells so fucking good.
Like home, I think, and I really fucking shouldn’t.
Before I can gather enough sense to pull back, Morgan wraps his arms around my waist and fists his hands in the back of my shirt.
“I don’t want to go.” He draws in a deep, deep breath and it comes out shaky. “Don’t make me.”
I suck in another lungful of him, trying to commit that to memory too. “I’m sorry,” I say again, following it up with a kiss along his collarbone. “So fucking sorry.” Then another.
I trail kisses up along his neck, stopping just behind his ear when his breath hitches.
I want to kiss him properly, to taste him one more time, but I’m not sure of my welcome. So instead, I pull back enough to see his face. “I need you to besafe.”
He scowls but keeps hold of me. “I can look after myself. I’ve done it for the past twenty-five years. I’m not fuckingfragile.”
But in my world, you are.
“You don’t know what they’re capable of. If they?—”
“They tortured mydad, Lynx. I’m well fucking aware of what they’re capable of.”
“Then you know why you can’t stay.” I cup his jaw, keeping him in place when he tries to look away. “It won’t be forever.”
“How long?”
Until you come to your senses. “Maybe until they leave town.”
He narrows his eyes at my none answer. “And how long will that be?”
I shrug. “I don’t know.”
