“It’s late, Shay,” he said, eyes dropping to my lips.
“You said you wanted more with me.”
“I had no right to say that,” he said, voice strained.
“Do you take it back?”
“No fucking way.” Maybe he saw the hope in my eyes, because he immediately added, “I’m in the Mafia, Shay.”
I shrugged. “It’s not my favorite genre, but I’ll read it. Honestly, you wanna know what I’m really mad about? All this time we could have been role-playing.”
He blinked, looking at me as if discovering a new kind of fruit. Something he couldn’t define but was hungry for.
“Not exactly role-play, Maniac,” he said.
I wanted to kiss him,neededto taste the longing that shredded his voice like sandpaper. But he stepped off, exhaling, and dragged two hands through his wavy hair. I hopped off the sink, following him.
“Shay, I can’t, we can’t?—”
“You were right,” I said. “All those months ago, you were right. I wasn’t looking for a good person. I wanted a bad guy. I thought I couldn’t get hurt that way. I thought…I don’t know, that that was what I deserved.”
A flinty, ice-cold anger hardened his features to steel. But again, when he spoke, his words were soft. Calm. “Shay, you deserve the fucking world?—”
“But that’s not what’s happening here,” I said. “I wanted a bad guy, and instead I got you. Who, apparently, is one of thebest.”
His eyes crinkled. “Shay…”
I stepped closer, fisting my fingers in the fabric of his shirt, tugging myself up to him. He responded, wrapping his arm around my waist.
“I don’t really know your world outside of books,” I said, voice soft. “But I know you.”
“Shay, this…we don’t make sense.” He was quiet, gaze on mine, brow furrowed. His fingers clenched at my lower waist, simultaneously dragging me closer while trying to pull back.
“Good,” I said. “I have spent my entire fucking life trying to make myself make sense to other people. I lie about how sick I am because it doesn’tmake senseto be both sick and look fine. I chose a guy thatmade sense. I don’twantto make sense. I want to be.” I leaned closer. “Are people in the Mafia not allowed to have girlfriends?”
My words seemed to wake him up. He let me go, taking a step back.
“Shay—”
“Do you love me?” I demanded, stepping closer so he couldn’t get away. His back pressed against the wall, I pinned him.
“Please, Shay.” He sounded pained.
“Maybe I should run away. Call the police,” I said, pressing my body into his. Molding against him. His hands were splayed flat against the wall, knuckles white, as if it was taking a tremendous effort not to reach for me.
And as fucked as it was, there was something empowering about this big, scary Mafia man terrified that I was touching him.
“I spent a long time after Graham worrying about red flags. I didn’t know how I could wake up one day and years had passed. I’d become someone different, someone who allowed that behavior. I was terrified it would happen again.” His eyes metmine, darkening as I dragged my hands up his body, clutching his shirt.
“I used to think love meant sacrifice,” I continued. “So I gave up my entire self for Graham. And he took it greedily. You’ve filled me back up. You pushed me to fulfill my dreams. The way you treat and care for me makes me want to be nicer to myself.”
He groaned, pressing his forehead to mine. “Shay…you were in my life for one day and are covered in blood.”
“Stop fucking sacrificing for me, Calder!” I said, voice rising. “Do you love me?”
He tangled his hands in my hair, grip bruising, pulling me up to my tiptoes to meet his wild, manic eyes. “Of course I love you!” His hungry, feral gaze dropped to my mouth, fist in my hair tightening, looking almostangry. “I don’t get a choice in it. My love for you is like the dark matter you study. It’s the thing that exists when all else dies. The secret, invisible black holding the universe up.”
He spun us around, switching places, so I was against the wall, pinned beneath him.
