Page 57 of Thin Lives

But he couldn’t really remember why. He did remember something—that night, in Vegas. It had to be Vegas. He didn’t remember what led up to it, what happened that day, or why he had been in bed with Emma, but clearly he had.

At some point, he had taken this woman.

And she was not his to have.

Emma moved a little closer to him. Calisto wanted to step back—distance would be better—but he didn’t move. He liked the smell of her perfume, and the way she was watching him.

“Vegas,” Calisto said, his tone barely breaking a whisper.

Emma gaze flashed with knowing, and she nodded once. “Vegas.”

“White marble.”

“My floors,” she murmured, smiling gently. “What else, Cal? What else do you remember?”

“You.” The word came out in a breath, nothing more. “Me.”

Emma sighed shakily. “That doesn’t tell me a lot.”

Calisto wet his lips. “Sex. We had—”

“Shh,” she said, her thumb stroking his jawline once more.

He wasn’t sure why, but he was shaking. His hands trembled, and he felt entirely overwhelmed. Maybe it was because he was still coming off from that memory, and what it all might mean.

No, he knew what it meant.

And yet, he couldn’t stop watching Emma, the curve of her smiling lips, and the hope that flickered in her eyes as she stared at him … waiting.

He didn’t know what she was waiting for.

Was it him?

Before he even really processed what he was doing, Calisto tipped his head down and caught Emma’s lips with his own. He expected her to freeze—he didn’t even know why he kissed her except that he wanted to.

He wanted to kiss her so badly.

She didn’t freeze at all.

Her lips moved against his softly at first, like she knew precisely what she was doing and that it was all too familiar for her. It was new to him, but it wasn’t at the same time.

That scared him.

But he kissed her harder, she parted her lips, and his tongue sneaked into her mouth instantly, wanting her heat and her taste.

When he found it, something cracked in his chest.

His heart, maybe.

All at once, the realization of what he was doing slammed into Calisto like a wrecking ball of pain and shame. He stumbled back from Emma, hands flying up as if to keep her away. Uncertainty flickered across her pretty features as tears welled in her eyes.

Don’t cry, he wanted to say.

He said nothing.

“I-I shouldn’t have done that,” Calisto mumbled.

Emma shook her head. “You don’t know why. It’s not the same.”