AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Like I hoped he would, Burke joined me, stretching his arm along the back of the couch in that way that I loved.
It was open body language, an opportunity for me to inch closer if I wanted or let my head rest on some part of him. Maybe we both had our reasons for keeping certain parts of our physical relationship behind a safeguard—him with his kissing, me with ... everything else—but these were the quiet moments that reminded me why he was the perfect man for this.
Why he is the perfect man for me,something in my head whispered quietly. But I knew just how dangerous it would be to listen to that quiet voice.
Burke allowed me to keep my heart safe. And he worshipped my body in every way that mattered.
“You’ve never asked me that,” I said.
His fingers toyed with the ends of my hair. “I know.”
“Why are you asking now?”
His chest heaved on a hard breath. “If it was your friend who’d died, would you know the best way to honor what he wanted?”
My eyes filled with tears, partially because he still tiptoed so carefully around the topic of Chris and what they meant to each other. It was another glimpse. Another snippet. And I wanted to hoard it somewhere under lock and key.
I swallowed hard, making sure I had control of my voice before I answered.
“I think that’s a different question,” I pointed out. “What I’d do with this house and if that would honor what your friend wanted—they may not be the same.”
At my answer, his tortured gaze shot through every line of defense I could ever hope to construct. What an odd moment to realize just how flimsy they were.
Tissue-paper thin. All of them.
And Burke was a battering ram.
I knew so little of what was inside his head, what he kept quiet in his heart. But when he looked at me like that—seeking reassurance and asking for my opinion, appearing lost in his desire to move forward while honoring the past—he showed me everything I needed to know.
That’s all he’d been doing for weeks. Months.
Without second-guessing, I pushed forward and climbed onto his lap, curling my arms around his neck and filling my lungs with his scent. With my legs on either side of his hips, his arms were locked around my back, holding me impossibly tight as he did the same.
“I know they’re different,” he whispered. “And I don’t know how to make peace with that.”
I pushed my nose against the warm skin on his throat. Underneath me, there was the steady thump of his heart.
I wanted to climb inside that too.
Maybe I already had.
“I don’t know how,” he said again. “And we’re running out of time.”
It wasn’t said loudly. But I felt it everywhere.
How was that even possible? How could you feel someone’s voice in your bones? How did it absorb through skin—the layer made for protection of all your most important parts—and push through muscle and veins and nerves to make your entire frame vibrate?
Maybe it was because he was offering me a piece of himself that he hadn’t given before.
And it was more precious to me than any kiss.
I wasn’t sure how long we sat like that. But as minutes passed, he never loosened his grip.
Our hands never started wandering. His lips never sought out my skin.
He just held me. Let me hold him back.
It should have scared me. But instead I ignored the warning bells in my head and let it be exactly the thing we needed.
