He says this more to Tucker than he does to me, but it’s fine. I’m still stuck on Shiloh’s smile, the way he tips his headback to laugh as the kid who hugged him earlier reaches out to poke him in the cheek with paint that matches the color of his eyes. Reluctantly, I turn to follow Pierre as he leads Tucker and Krystal away, but a small tap on the glass window separating the art room from the hallway meets my ears and I turn back around.
Shiloh’s standing there, surrounded by kids who are all waving at me, their little hands flailing in the air as excited noises meet my ears from behind the glass. I wave back at them, then look at Shiloh to find a small smile on his face.
“Hi,” he mouths wordlessly behind the glass that divides us.
“Hi,” I murmur back.
I love you, is what I think I mean.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
SHILOH
“What’s your favorite color?”
The question comes out of nowhere a week after the night Donovan caught me at the youth center. Up until then, we’d been sitting on his couch watching some old movie that I wasn’t really paying attention to while he played with my hair and I let myself drift on a cloud of hazy relaxation.
He’d asked me about the youth center before too, and I’d been surprised when I’d answered. It wasn’t like I could hide it.
And honestly, it wasn’t hard to tell him when I remembered the way his eyes had been sowarmas he’d watched me with Iggy and the other kids. I didn’t tell himwhyI was going into art therapy, and he’d been more happy to ask about my volunteer schedule and how many classes I’d taught.
Since I’d only been there for a few, it was easy to give the information.
And now he’s askingmorequestions.
It’s not really the words that take me aback as much as the intensity. I frown, shifting in Donovan’s arms so I can look at him while I answer.
“Red.” My eyes flick from his hair to the posters on the wall, and I hope since I didn’t saycrimson, he doesn’t associate it with blood.
“I could have guessed that from your art, actually.” I start to settle back down, but he grabs the remote and pauses the movie. His fingers slide through my hair, warm palms shifting to cup my face. “What’s your middle name?”
I pause. “Ryley.” The word comes out cautiously. The questions are innocent, but Donovan’s hands pull me until I’m straddling his lap, and his nails raking along my scalp make my mind go fuzzy as he keeps talking.
“What’s your last name?”
I have a moment where I think I should probably put an end to this, because he seems to have some kind of goal in mind… but his lips land on my neck, and the hot stripe of his tongue licking along the line of my pulse distracts me enough that I moan the answer. “Lake.”
“Shiloh Ryley Lake.” He whispers it against my pulse like a prayer, and I wonder if he can feel the way the syllables make it go rapid-fire.
I don’t like this, because Ilikeletting him see little pieces of me. I liked it earlier when he was at Helping Hearts, and I like it now hearing him whisper my name as if I’ve told him some secret to the universe.
I don’t like how much Ilikefeeling important to someone.
“Donovan…” I start, but his lips find mine, and he licks my protest straight from my mouth in warm, sure strokes of his tongue that make me melt against him.
It’s not fair how good Donovan is at kissing… or maybe he’s not, and it’s just the fact that he’s the only person I’ve kissed.
Whatever it is, I’m lost in the feel of it, in the sensation of his big hands as they slide beneath my shirt and skate along thelength of my spine in a delicious tickle of heat that leaves me shivering against him.
I’m not sure if I like sex so much as I like the way it feels to get lost in Donovan’s want… but…
When I open my eyes, that heat isn’t there. Sure, it’s somewhere in the background, but his expression is deeper. Warm and soft and full of something that looks a lot like fear.
I don’t like him looking at me like that.
“What?” I try to pull back, but his hand at my back keeps me effortlessly in place when he drops his other hand to the top of my thigh.
“I want to know you, Shiloh.” He says it softly, whispered as though he knows how dangerous those words are.
