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When I pull away, he says, “Can I do that, too?”
I sink down, nodding, and then it’s him kissing me, cushioned in the softness of my pillow, his hands against my head making a hushed space where I can hear my heart and feel his lips.
I think of all the words for kisses. Hot. Possessive. Questing. Fiery. This kiss isn’t any of those. It’s not any of the other things we’ve been to each other, either—fun or funny or angry or supportive or dangerous.
It’s a kiss that says, Here you are. Here I am.
Here we are.
Kissing West that way—it makes me feel so much better.
When he stops to breathe, I let out a long breath and tell him, “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Okay, we can talk.”
“I was hoping that was what you meant,” he says. “And not, you know, Okay, you can go now.”
“That’s not really my style.”
“You didn’t seem to want me here a little while ago.”
“I clubbed you over the head and dragged you up here by one ear.”
“Is that how you remember it?”
“More or less,” I admit.
“But there’s this.” He touches the corner of my eyelid. My lashes dried in clumps, and my cheeks still feel hot.
“That. Yeah. I didn’t anticipate that.”
“Me, neither.” He lowers down and kisses me again, softly. “We probably should’ve talked first, fucked each other’s brains out after.”
“Then we might not have fucked each other’s brains out at all.”
“Right.”
We’re quiet for a minute, just looking at each other. Thinking about what we did, whether we should have. What it is we’re supposed to say now that we’ve come through months of separation and arrived here in my bed.
West sits up, propping his back against my headboard.
“I’m going to promise you something,” he says. “You don’t have to promise me back. I don’t think it has to work like that. I just want to tell you—I’m not gonna keep anything from you. I’m done pretending that my business isn’t your business. I want to be straight with you, Caro, because I’m hoping …”
He looks down at me, caution in the lines around his mouth. But his eyes aren’t cautious or angry—not the way they’ve been so much of the time since I landed in Silt.
They’re just West. All of him, right there in his face.
“I’m hoping what we did tonight means something to you, the way it does to me,” he says. “Even if you think it was a mistake, which, you know, it probably was a mistake, but if it was, I made it because I want you back in my life so bad.”
I didn’t know there was anything inside me left closed to him, but hearing West say he wants me back just throws a door open inside me, and I’m crying again.
He scoots back down to the bed to wipe at my tears with his hand. “Caro.”
“No, it’s fine. I’m fine. Don’t baby me.”
“I kind of want to baby you.”
