Page 61 of Destroyed With You

“Understand what?”

“That we’re explorers, you and I.”

“Are we?” My head’s tilted to the side as I study his face. I have no idea where he’s going with this.

“We’re in uncharted territory here, darlin’. We’ll just have to take it day by day.”

“Yeah,” I say. “Day by day.”

“Inch by inch.” He releases one hand so that he can trace his finger down my neck, then slowly toward the swell of my breast. “Tell me this, at least,” he murmurs. “Are you still attracted to me?”

“Don’t ask stupid questions.”

His eyes light with his smile. “Then kiss me, and we can see about doing a little bit of that exploring right now.”

Chapter Twenty

I sip coffee on the front porch swing the next morning and watch the world go by as I remember the way Winston touched me last night. Sweet at first, and then with a wild urgency, as if he had to claim every part of me. Had to mark me as his.

Am I, though? Am I the woman he was making love to, or was he in bed with a memory?

I don’t know the answer, and I push the thoughts away, wanting to enjoy the morning. A kid on a bicycle throws papers into the yards that line the street, and I can’t help but feel as if I’ve been transported back to a different world. Hades hadn’t been much bigger than this town, but it had never felt slow to me, probably because I lived in that dark place beneath the surface of the town. I saw the gears that moved that world and knew that everything up above was little more than a facade.

Here, though, life feels real. People walk by and they wave and smile. They pick the newspaper off their front stoop and then they actually read it, possibly going the entire morning without checking their phone.

What a crazy idea.

I put my cup aside and push the swing lightly with my toes as an elderly couple walks arm-in-arm down the sidewalk in front of the house. The man moves slowly as he helps his wife, and I get a lump in my throat watching them.

“I used to think that would be us.”

I turn, the smile blooming on my face as I see Winston in the doorway. “Although I always assumed you’d be helping me along.”

I scoot over so that he can join me on the swing. “In my fantasy, we never aged,” I admit. I look back at the couple. “It was selfish of me. I never thought about what would happen when the work ended. I just wanted to be with you.”

He takes my hand and we twine our fingers together. “Then I was selfish, too. I didn’t tell you the truth, either.”

I twist to look at him. “Would you have? If I hadn’t—well, if it hadn’t all fallen apart so quickly? Would we have told each other our secrets?”

“I think so. When it was over, why wouldn’t we have?”

“Because we weren’t who we said we were. And I—”

“What?”

“I would have been so scared of losing you,” I admit. “I don’t know, Winston. I honestly don’t. I might have kept on lying. And I hate myself for that, because in the end, it would have poisoned everything.”

“But it didn’t happen.”

I have to laugh. “No, instead this did. Not exactly the better alternative, you finding out I’m alive like that. And thinking I’m an assassin for hire.”

“Oh, I don’t know, darlin’,” he says, laying his drawl on thick. “We’re here now, aren’t we?”

“Yeah,” I say, a bit amazed that he’s not still furious with me. I’d seen the rage in his eyes back in that hotel room. More important, I knew that I’d deserved it. He’d lied, too—that’s true enough. But I’d left him broken, believing I was dead. And while I would do it again to keep him alive, I can’t fault his fury. As far as I’m concerned, it’s a miracle he doesn’t hate me now.

I lean over and kiss his cheek, then watch his face light up. “What was that for?”

I shrug. “Does it have to be for anything?”