Page 86 of Ash Fall

I take her face in both hands and bring my mouth down to hers, as softly as I know how to be. It's barely a kiss, it’s almost more of a question than anything. I pull back far enough to see her answer, and her eyes flutter closed, and that’s all I need to see. The second time my lips touch hers I kiss her the way I've wanted to for far too long.

She melts against me. There's no other word for it. Her whole body goes soft and her hands come up to grip my forearms. The smallest, sweetest sound escapes her mouth into mine, and I go hard so fast my head swims. The magic inside her brushes against mine as that soft glow lifts from her skin and slides against me.

Good Lord, this girl. This perfect fucking girl.

I want to walk her backwards into that island, lift her up onto it, feel her legs wrap around my waist, and lose the rest of the night between them. Every part of me is begging for it but I make myself slow down instead, easing off by degrees until the kiss is as gentle as it started. She’s had one hell of a day, and this is not the night to push. Baby steps with this one. When I let her go, she blinks up at me with hazy eyes, and the smallest smile pulls at her lips. Then she clears her throat and steps back, lifts both hands, and presses them against her pink cheeks, shaking her head with a soft laugh.

"Yeah, so." She says a little breathless. "No confusion at all there. Thanks for that, Tor."

"Good. Glad we're on the same page." I hold the door for her. "Now come on. Let’s get things sorted so we can get some sleep."

It doesn’t take long until every bed in the fifth wheel is made and a few bags of our personal belongings are in, stacked on the couch for now. Reid, Jules and Mars all wandered over in time to help carry stuff from the motorhome. Nobody talks about anything that matters as we wind down. Jules makes some comments about thread count when he carries in a pile of bedding and Reid jokes about bouncing a quarter off of the sheets as he makes one of the beds. Mars doesn’t say much of anything, he just tries to help. Luna moves between all of us deciding which pillows to put where. Every time one of them touches her shoulder or takes something out of her hands, I feel a small warm pulse come off her.

Then Gage walks in. He gets two steps up into the living area and stops. His eyes go to Luna, standing at the island with a pillowcase in her hands, and stay there for exactly one tense second. Then he turns around and walks back out without a word.

She drops the pillowcase and goes after him, but I catch her arm before she reaches the door.

"Let him go." I shake my head when she starts to argue. "Give him tonight to get his head right. We'll deal with it tomorrow, all of us together."

Her face says she hates it, but she stays anyway.

Someone must decide it is bedtime, or maybe they’re on a timer, because most of the overhead lights in the bay where we’re parked go dark until it’s just the emergency lights still on near the doorways. It’s like a signal and I notice that the noise in the huge space drops off to almost nothing. Gigi, Kara and Briar are in the motorhome for the night until they decide where they want to settle. Mars says goodnight and shuts the door on the queen bedroom under the loft, alone. I didn't miss the look he gave the stairs to the master before he did it.

I have no idea where Gage is sleeping tonight and I’m annoyed enough with him not to care right now. Not here, that much is clear. He's being a stubborn idiot, and if he's not careful it's going to cost him.

I take Luna's hand and lead her up the three steps to the front bedroom and pull her down onto the huge bed with me. She curls into my side with her head on my shoulder, and I get one arm under her and let my eyes close. The door opens a minute later.

Jules doesn't say anything, which is how I know how tired he is. He climbs in on Luna's other side and settles against her back. Reid comes in behind him, hesitates at the edge of the bed for about half a breath, and then Luna reaches back without opening her eyes and finds his hand. He gets in. Four of us in one bed, with her in the middle where she belongs.

Sleep takes every one of us inside a minute.

Chapter 32 - Luna

I have no idea what time it is when I wake up and realize that I’m alone in this giant bed.

The glow from the bright overhead lights of the bay is muted but it makes it through the blinds covering the window opposite the bed, and the blankets on either side of me are thrown back and long cold. Somebody tucked mine up over my shoulder before they left. My money's on Reid.

I should get up and get to work. Instead, I lie there for a bit enjoying the feeling of being comfortable and cozy and stare at a new ceiling. It hits me that I’ll likely never wake up staring at the familiar ceiling of my childhood home again as I let myself catch up with everything from yesterday.

Three of them kissed me. Three of them, in one day. Reid brought his shaking hands and his whole heart. Jules kissed me the way he does everything, certain he'd already won. Torrin was so soft and sure it made my knees almost give out. As confusing as all of that should be, confusion is not the thing humming through me this morning. The thing humming through me wants more. It feels like there’s a well inside of me and it wants, needs to be filled. The whole of me wants more contact, more of their mouths, more of their hands, more of them.

I roll my eyes at the ceiling. Or maybe it's just been a very long time since I've had an orgasm.

Then I think about Gage, and the humming comes to a dead stop. He wouldn't even sleep in the same camper as the rest of us last night. The man walked in, looked at me for one second, and walked back out and I have no idea where he ended up sleeping. I can't stand it. Him hurting and me being the reason, both of those are unbearable to me. Lying here cataloguing kisses while he's out there somewhere hurting is not something I can do for one more minute.

I don't have the answers on how to fix this. There’s no manual. There isn’t even a talk show we could go on anymore to have some pretend doctor help us work through our feelings. Nobody has explained how any of this would work, or if it even can. What I do know is that it has to start with an actual conversation where all five of us are in one room with nobody storming off. That’s never going to happen while he won't look at me, so I get up and get dressed.

The bay feels wrong when I come down the steps of the fifth wheel and it takes me a second to work out why. The whole place is quiet. No tools are banging or people rushing around. Instead, there's a crowd of maybe thirty people, bunched up at the biggest open bay door with their backs to me and all of them dead silent and looking out.

I cross the floor and work my way in between shoulders until I can see.

Snow is falling.

That's my first thought, actual snow drifting down soft and slow across the service road, the pen, the badlands beyond. My brain trips over it, because it's July but then I see the colour of it. It isn't white. It's a muted grey with shades of brown, settling on the road in a film that the wind smears sideways, and the light behind it is the colour of dirty dishwater.

It isn't snow at all. The ash is here.

Whatever reprieve we had is over. Everything out there just got more dangerous, breathing included. I stand in that silent crowd watching the sky come down and feel the weight of it press on all of us at once. How long? How long will the ash fall and keep us trapped inside? The question has anxiety tensing my shoulders as I turn to look away and notice the other new thing.