Page 166 of Ex Somnis

“I don’t know, darling. I don’t know a lot of things when it comes to This Man.”

“Maybe to keep Nevan from getting hurt? In some twisted version of caring?”

I scoff before I can stop myself. “No. I’m fairly certain that’s not it.”

“Then what could it be? It’s driving me crazy.”

“I think he’s bored,” I say it plainly, because it’s the truest thing I have, while my hand strokes down her back. “I think he’s been alone a very long time, and people with sleep problems are easy for him to manipulate. He finds it entertaining.”

“He is lonely,” she says, frowning.

“Do you feel sorry for him?”

“Naked truth?”

“Always.”

She breathes out something close to a laugh, not quite. “I hate him. But yeah, I do.”

“Naked truth?” I kiss her neck again. “I love that you’ve got a big enough heart to pity the villain of your story because I’m basically the villain too.”

“You’re not.” She shakes her head.

I kiss lower, along her collarbone. “I almost killed you.”

“You found me,” she says, but it comes out breathy.

I kiss her properly then, but holding her wrecks something loose in my chest that I’d kept stacked and sealed for longer than I want to think about.

And when Seraphine is right, I’m gonna lose her again.

My hands aren’t quite steady where they’re resting against her back, and she notices.

Of course, she notices.

She pulls back. “What’s wrong?”

“I think it’s catching up with me.”

“What is?”

“Everything.”

She frowns and reaches up to touch my face, her thumb moving along my jaw. “You’re carrying a lot, aren’t you?”

I shrug, which isn’t an answer. We both know it isn’t.

“Everyone puts everything on you,” she continues. “Because you’re the responsible one. The capable one. You’ve got Tessa, and Nora, and Ridge, and Nevan, and me.”

“I will always have you.”

“And I’ve got you.” Her hand stays on my face. “I’ve got them, too, but I’ve also got you. If you’ll let me.”

“Lennon, my darling Lennon,” I whisper against her mouth, feeling the way she stills, how she always does when I use her name like that, as though it’s something she’s still getting used to being handed.

“Let me,” she whispers again, leaning back to look into my eyes. “I promi⁠—”

I press my mouth to hers, kissing her soundly to stop the word. “Don’t,” I whisper. “Don’t promise me anything, not after we learned how binding those can be.”