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Cabin. Not home, but a prison. I shouldn’t expect anything else, but I just… I can’t stop from wishing things were different.
“Of course,” I say, stepping back onto the shore and collecting my clothes as she shoves hers back on. Her eyes linger a beat too long on my chest as I pull my shirt on, and I can’t stop that wretched spark of hope. “You ready?”
She nods, her lips pressed in a thin line. She doesn’t speak a word as she climbs behind me on the motorcycle, but the way she presses her fingertips into my chest…
She’ll break for me, eventually. She has to.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
LILLITH
It’s been three days since Kain took me to the lake, and I still can’t make sense of my actions. When he held me, when he pulled me against him… I wanted him so deeply, so irrevocably, that it hurt. Physically hurt. Even now, when I think about it, my useless heart has a fit and threatens to beat its way out of my rib cage.
A part of me longs for him to take me like he did that day, for him to break and touch me like I’m something… something precious. I always thought the romance books lied about that spark, about the dragons that roar to life in your belly when he’s near.
I was wrong. Oh, so very, very wrong.
“Breakfast?”
I jump at the graveled voice, having been so lost in thought I didn’t notice him enter the bedroom. I’m sitting crisscross on the bed, one of his massive T-shirts falling off my shoulder, and the look in his eyes tells me he’d like nothing better than to rip it off me.
“Sure.” I can’t help the note of excitement that slips into my tone nor the rapid beat of my heart as a smile tugs at Kain’s lips. Beautiful, full lips. Lips I’d like nothing more than to—Nope. Nope, nope, nope.
He nods without a word, then turns and lingers with his hand on the doorknob. “I was thinking… you might like to join me on the porch this morning.”
The words—filled with such formality—sound so strange and forced compared to how he spoke at the lake. I wish I could see his face and look into his eye to see what he’s really trying to say. Kain never says much with words, but his gaze gives away more than he realizes.
“If you’d like,” I say, a pang ringing in my chest as he flinches.
He pauses for a beat too long, and I know what he really wants to say will never make its way to my ears. “I would,” he says before leaving the room.
A puff of air passes my lips as the door clicks shut, and I flop back onto the bed. The springs squeak with the movement, calling attention to the metal cage waiting just below me, like the hungry mouth of a beast. When we got back from the lake, Kain didn’t even attempt to utilize the cage he’s so fond of and hasn’t since. I’m not sure if I’m happy about that or terribly disappointed.
It’s another thing I refuse to think about.
The click of the door has me shooting up in bed, and I’m shocked to see Kain standing there, holding a plate full of steaming pancakes.
“That was fast.” I can’t help the grin that tips my lips. “Are those… did you make me pancakes?”
“I might have already been making them when I asked you earlier.” The ghost of a smile tilts his mouth, and I try not to think about how the sight makes my heart flutter. “And yes. There’s banana in them.”
I narrow my eyes playfully. “So you were going to make me banana pancakes whether I wanted them or not? How very… you.”
“Yes.” Kain jerks his chin toward the front door. “Come.”
After throwing my legs over the side of the bed, I do. I get to the door just in time to watch Kain touch his wrist to the wood panel. I’d make a mental note of where it is, but it’s not like I can open the door—not even if I know where the sensor is. Unless Kain wants to install one of those key thingies in my arm, of course.
The door scrapes open, and sunlight blasts through the opening in the wall. I haven’t been outside in so long that it’s uncomfortable, but if I squint enough, it’s easier to manage.
I plop in the armchair next to Kain, breathing in the heavenly scent of the pancakes he sets on the small side table—glorious, golden-brown circles made with near-obsessive precision.
This. I can admit I missed this.
Kain loads my plate high, topping it with a bucket worth of syrup without needing to ask.
“Enjoy,” he murmurs, passing the plate to me. His gaze never leaves my profile, not even as I shovel forkfuls of the syrupy goodness into my mouth. He’s always so still, so silent that sometimes I forget he’s even here. If it wasn’t for the steady thump of his heart, I’d begin to think he was nothing more than stone.
“What are you thinking about?”
