Page 46 of Burn Protocol

When I look up, Elena’s eyes are on mine. There is something soft in there. Her mouth relaxes for a brief moment. It’s not quite a smile, but something moving away from the storm raging inside of her. I let out a soft breath and move my gaze to the street, my shoulder so close to her, that I can feel the heat of her body. The silence between us isn’t loaded, it’s familiar and safe. I almost lean into her, but stop myself just in time. I don’t want to push her away again.

We stand side by side until the sun moves below the buildings and the air gets a chill to it. The moment I shiver, Elena turns to me and lets her gaze drop to my bare arms. I rub them quickly to get rid of the goosebumps that are popping up, but she has already seen them. She tilts her chin slightly and nods her head toward her living room. I reluctantly move inside and stand there awkwardly. It’s probably time for me to go.

Elena closes the balcony doors and walks over. For once she isn’t striding, and her footsteps are softened by her socked feet. I barely hear her coming before she puts her warm hand on the small of my back again and guides me to the couch.

“Sit, please,” she asks with a soft voice.

“Are… are you sure?”

She hums and nods before sitting down and patting the cushion next to her. A gentle smile tugs at my lips and I sit next to her. She is so close I can smell that mix of sandalwood, honeydew, and something that belongs to Elena alone. I inhale it deeply and place my hand in between us without giving it a second thought. Elena’s eyes travel down and then back up to mine again. My lips tug upward slightly as I keep her stare. Not forcing a single thing, but not retracting either, even though butterflies flutter through my stomach. My breath gets caught in my chest, wondering if she’ll take it. Carefully Elena lets her long fingers inch closer, before they slip into mine. When I softly close my hand around hers, she sighs and leans back.

“Thank you,” she murmurs. “For staying when I made it so easy for you to leave.”

I see a quick frown appear on her face, then vanish the next second, almost as if she flinches away from her own feelings. I don’t speak, but softly run my thumb over her smooth skin. She sighs again and for the first time since the crash, I see her relax.

Maya’s hand is warm under mine. This woman—who I’ve treated so poorly—just sits with me. Not to get a story out of it, but to calm me. She really does care about me. I can see it in her eyes. This is not an act. She cried when I sent her away. She tried to hide it, but I saw. I squeeze my eyes shut as the guilt rattles through me. She has been nothing but good to me.

Even now. I haven’t said a word to her, but she stayed. In silence. Making me tea in my own house. How do I deserve her company after all that I said?

I feel a line forming between my eyebrows. When I open my eyes to look at her, she is already staring at me, concerned. I lick my lips to speak, and she shifts in the chair. Maya straightens her spine and turns toward me even more. Our thighs press against each other and I feel her warmth spreading through my body.

“What is it?”

Her whisper is soft, and her voice sounds frail around the edges. Her eyebrows are drawn together in a small frown and the look she gives me would be adorable if it wasn’t so heartbreaking.

“Why are you here?” I breathe.

There is no malice in my voice. Not this time. I just need to know why she came. Since when did you get this insecure? Maya doesn’t startle, but instead gazes at me, her eyes searching for something in mine. It’s almost hesitant.

“I couldn’t bear the thought of you being alone after… after today.”

She drops her gaze to our hands. For a moment I fear she is going to retreat and I grasp her tighter. I don’t want her to go. I need her to stay. Please, Maya.

“You were hurting…” she continues.

“I’m fine,” I reassure her instantly.

The EMTs cleaned the gash in my hip and taped it together. I didn’t even need stitches. The soreness from the stretched muscles might linger for a couple of days, but nothing seems to be torn. But Maya shakes her head.

“Not there,” she says, looking at my hip, “but here.”

She raises her left hand and presses her fingertips lightly against my sternum. Her eyes travel up to meet mine. They are brimming with tears and her lip is trembling. My heart stills for a beat and the world around me seems to pause. There are little jolts of electricity from where her fingers touch my chest and my lips part in a soft gasp.

“Maya,” I whimper.

Look at what you are doing to her, Gonzales. How she is hurting for you. It feels like a knife is pressed into my chest and slowly dragged downward. It hits me with such a force that I draw in a sharp breath. I feel her tremble and she moves to pull her hand away. A flash of guilt on her face. She thinks she is too much.

“Sorry.”

The word is barely even a whisper and my heart churns. Do something! Before I stop myself and think, I bend forward. My hand leaves hers only to grab her waist and pull her closer to me, while the other slides to her neck. My eyes search for hers before they dip lower to her lips. Those delicious full lips that now part ever so slightly.

“Maya…” I whisper again, this time a plea more than anything else.

My eyes find hers again, searching for her consent. She seems to be looking for the same thing because as soon as our eyes meet, she sighs and closes the distance between us. The moment she presses her lips softly against mine, my eyes flutter close and a heat spreads through my belly. She is gentle, questioning, careful. It’s not enough.

I want her, no, I need her. All of her. I tighten my grip as I lean more into her. My movement forces her to tip her head slightly. I run my tongue over her bottom lip and she moans against my mouth. Her lips open, allowing me in. She tastes like tea and honey, like sunshine in my hand.

A low growl escapes me as I stroke her tongue with my own. My body pulsates with the sensation. Maya moans back in reply, her hands snaking around my back, pulling me even closer. The softness fades and the kiss turns into something harder, more urgent. Desperate even. The hunger inside me takes over, like a wild beast being starved for weeks.