He doesn't wait for me to come. He hooks his hands under my arms and lifts me out of the chair like I weigh nothing, and before I have my balance he has set me down on the dining room table—on the table, in the empty space between two place settings, the candles still flickering at my hip—and stepped in between my knees.
"...Zero, Margot is going to kill us if she sees—"
"Shh."
He cradles my face in both hands and kisses me.
It isn’t the cocky kiss from the parlor. This one is slower. Heavier. He worships my lips before sliding his tongue across the seam and devouring me. My breath, my heart, my everything.
When he pulls back his forehead rests against mine.
"Maxie. Listen to me."
"...I'm listening,” I say breathlessly.
"What I said to Wren. I meant it. All of it." His thumbs stroke my cheekbones. "I don't have any intention of hurtingyou. Not ever again. Not in any way you haven't asked me to. The version of me that came at you, that hurt you—that version is gone, baby. I burned him."
I can’t breathe for a second.
"...Zero."
"Yeah."
I open my mouth.
The three words are right there. They’re right there. They’ve been sitting under my tongue for weeks, since I curled into the warm spot he left in his bed and felt so whole and cared for I could barely stand it. Those three. Little. Words. They’re nearly out.
"I—"
But Zero doesn't hear it. He doesn't even notice it's starting. He’s been looking at my mouth since the first kiss and he just—wants it again. He leans in and takes it. Simple, hungry, unbothered. The unfinished syllables disappears between us, and he has no idea he just kissed anI love youoff my tongue. He thinks he’s kissing me because the candles are nice and Margot is on the patio and my mouth has been right there all night.
When he pulls back, he is grinning, the soft private grin he wears for me alone, completely unaware of what just nearly happened in his hands.
"Mm, baby." His thumb drags slow across my lower lip. "You taste too good. I can't keep doing this. If I lean back in I'm not going to stop and Margot is eight feet of patio door away. One of us has to have some self-preservation."
"...okay."
I bite the inside of my cheek, enjoying the sweet moment we almost just had. Oh, well. Another time.
"Alright, off the table.Off. If Margot walks in and sees you sitting where she serves people food, I am going to be eating my organs for dessert and deserving it."
He lifts me off the table by the waist and sets me on my feet, then keeps a hand at the small of my back as he turns me toward the dishes.
"Plates first," he says, all business now, mouth twitching at the corner. "Help me with the plates. Move fast."
I get the plates, trying to pretend like my dick isn’t hard in my pants. Zero is gathering wine glasses behind me.
Margot laughs at something Richard has said on the patio, muffled through the glass. The front door clicks shut down the hallway as Bane sees Wren off, and the bond pulse between him and me flickers warm:on my way back.
Zero hums under his breath as he stacks plates. The bond between us is steady and amused and so wide I can feel his pulse in my own teeth, and underneath it the bond pointing northwest—Atlas, three cities away, a low constant. I miss him.
I know he misses me too.
Bane appears around the corner, sleeves already pushed up to his elbows, and surveys the dining room. "Should I ask," he says, "why the candles are in different positions than they were when I left."
"No," Zero says, brightly.
"Mm."
