Page 80 of Promise

The second she shuts down, I see it. Her eyes wide, almost panicked. Her mouth slack instead of smiling.

What we just did catches up to her.

I’m still buried inside her. The two of us are slick and breathing heavily, and yet I’ve lost her.

Trinity scrambles off me, releasing me with a soft suction. A rush of our collective releases trickles down me. She fumbles off my lap and tucks her dress between her legs.

I don’t know what to do with my hands. Pull her back to me or let her go.

When she starts up the staircase, wedging herself between me and the railing, I catch her ankle. I don’t intend to trip her, I just want her to stop.

“Trinity.”

“I . . .” She’s practically crawling up the stairs, and she glances at me over her shoulder. Her mouth is swollen from our kisses. Her neck reddened by my scruff. But her eyes . . . they kill me.

“Shower . . .” she mutters. She’s pushing me away, pulling back, doing exactly what we said we wouldn’t do.

I let her go, collapsing on the stairs for another second to catch my breath. To catch my thoughts.

I want to give her space, but space is all we’ve had. Too much time. Too much distance.

Am I too late?

I pull up my jeans and press off the stairs to slowly climb the steps.

I hear the shower running in her room.

Stay or go? Steamroll or settle?

There’s only one choice.

Her.

I stalk toward the bathroom. Because of the closed door, I knock. “Trin?”

When she doesn’t answer me, I risk her wrath and enter. She’s in the shower, back to the door, head against the wall.

Spreading my hands wide, I press my forehead to the glass. “Trin. Talk to me.”

Her shoulders shake. We’ve been in this position before. Her silent tears. My broken heart.

I should leave her alone, but that’s also what I’ve done in the past. I’d let her wallow in her emotions instead of addressing them.

Slowly, I peel off my clothes and pop open the glass door.

Trin tilts her head, glancing at me over her shoulder, bewildered, overwhelmed possibly.

Too much happened too fast. I won’t deny I loved it. Won’t pretend it didn’t happen either. I don’t regret it one bit, but this . . . the fear in her eyes, I want to dispel.

I run my hands over her shoulders and down her arms, cupping her elbows.

“Talk to me.”

She shakes her head. “I’m not certain I can even explain it myself.”

I slip my hands down her forearms and then wrap both our arms around her middle, pulling her back to my chest.

“Then we’ll just stand here. Together.”