Chapter 14
FOURTEEN
LIAM
Goddamn. Cramps seize my calves as I stand amongst the stacks, watching Kat.
I’ve never known anyone to spend so much time in a library. Not that I’ve frequented them often, given my upbringing. Not much book learning needed for punching guys to death.
It’s been going on for three hours, this lurking in the stacks. I’m itching to put on my mask. No one pays me much mind, but I worry Kat’ll see my face every time she looks up.
The library closes at ten, not that she seems aware of the time. She’s got her head down, that angel hair hiding her pretty face, and typing away. Every so often, she stops and stares off into the distance like she’s trying to solve a puzzle.
Is she thinking about me?
I wonder about that more than is healthy.
The light above her table catches her hair, making it gleam gold. I feel that familiar ache that never quite goes away. She’s so fucking beautiful.
A sound from the far end of the room distracts me from idolising her.
A student in headphones scrapes his chair on the floor, gaining him multiple shushes from the few people left in the library.
I’ve been jumpier than usual since losing Kat’s stalker for a second time.
Whoever he is, he’s a wily little fuck. He’s clearly mapped out every single escape route from Kat’s flat, and it’s becoming a full-time affair trying to keep her and Ellie safe.
I’m only sleeping while they are in classes, and there’s a pain behind my eyes that won’t let up.
It doesn’t help my stealth lurking either.
I feel like everyone is looking at me whenever anyone passes.
Few do, given that I’m in the legal section of older tomes.
Rarely does anyone seem to be looking for an actual book in the library; most sit at the central tables and work on laptops or phones. Often both at the same time.
Kat stands and stretches out, her dress riding up her thighs in a way that nearly breaks me. I watch her as she moves into the stacks, pulling on my mask as I follow her. The gap between shelves is narrow, the books towering high above our heads.
There are no overhead lights here, only the occasional wall sconce, and the floor-to-ceiling windows are dark, their bumpy surface obscuring the world beyond.
She’s pulling books out and looking at the back, before pushing them back in.
I stop at the end of the row she’s heading down, boxing her in.
She turns, eyes widening.
‘If you’re going to sneak around,’ she says, ‘you should get better at it.’
She may be playing it cool, but the surprise is written all over her face.
‘I thought you’d given up stalking me.’
Never.
‘Keeping myself busy making sure no one else is,’ I respond, taking a step closer to her.
Her face softens, and she turns back to the books, resting her fingers on a leathery spine.
‘I’m guessing you didn’t catch him,’ she says.
‘Not yet. But I will.’ I take another step.
‘I have so many questions.’
I wait, sweat gathering at the base of my spine.
‘Did it get better for you after what I did? Or did I make everything worse?’
‘Yes and no. Less pain. But no love. Not until my last family. They are good people.’
I love that she cares.
‘I thought about you all the time.’ A small smile lifts the corner of her mouth. ‘I tried so hard to find you.’
‘I know.’
She turns at that, brow furrowed.
‘The stones. I saw them in your room. You collected them over the years just like I did. When I saw them, I knew you hadn’t forgotten me.’
The furrow deepens.
‘Mmm, so you were in my room? How?’
Shit a brick. Just give yourself away, you idiot.
The need to be close to her draws me deeper into the stack. Kat turns, her back taking the place of her fingers against the leather books. She blinks up at me, mascara-coated lashes framing the blue eyes I’ve dreamed of for so long.
‘Don’t worry about how. I’d never hurt you.’
God, I want to touch her so badly, to reach out and graze a thumb over those perfect pink lips.
‘You’ve gotten so big,’ she says softly.
‘So have you.’
Pink climbs her cheeks, and the flush makes me ache to hold her.
‘Still so like the girl I remember, though,’ I say. ‘Wild and doe-eyed.’
‘I’m not wild.’
‘Busting into your alley barefoot and waving a kitchen knife tells me otherwise.’
She shrugs and smiles, looking up at me with her lips, so pink and full.
‘I still feel like I’ve imagined you into being. Like if I blink, you’ll disappear. It’s why I can’t see your face.’
Fuck, it pains me to deny her the part of me she wants, but I’m still afraid that the reality of who I am will have her running. I need to give her something beyond a masked figurehead lurking at the edge of her eyesight.
‘Could your imagination do this?’
She tilts her head a touch, her lips parting.
I cover her eyes with one gloved hand, feeling her lashes flutter against the leather, pressing back to trap her against the books.
She stills beneath my touch, but doesn’t tell me no.
Doesn’t push my touch away. That alone is almost enough to undo me.
She trusts me, despite my not being deserving of it.
‘Keep them closed.’ The way her throat bobs is delicious. Lord, I want to bite her pretty throat. To feel her pulse against my tongue.
I lift my mask with my other hand, just high enough to expose my mouth.
She smells like lemons and coffee, and I need to taste her.
I close the last of the distance between us, stopping to breathe her in as she gives the softest little whimper.
‘Kiss me,’ she demands, and I obey immediately.
The first touch of our lips is so tender it’s barely a kiss. Yet it reaches to the pit of my soul and twists it tight.
‘Fuck, Kat,’ I moan against her lips before deepening the kiss, her mouth giving way to the press of my tongue.
I doubt I’m any good at it, I’ve never willingly kissed anyone before.
But if there are points for feeling, I’m there.
Emotion and need pile up with every swipe of her sweet tongue.
I fold my body against her, needing more of her.
All of her.
My Kat.
Is kissing me.
She wants to kiss me.
My knees feel weak as she lets out the softest moan against my lips, and I press her more firmly to the bookcase with my hips just to make her do it again.
She tastes faintly of coffee, and her lips are softer than I imagined. Kissing her is a world away from kissing a man under force with his five o’clock shadow grazing my face. Suddenly, I understand why people stop in the street and kiss each other with such abandon at times.
I could kiss her forever.
As the moments tick by, I can’t help but tip her head, keeping her eyes covered, and take more from her.
I need her. The sounds she makes are incredible, the softest pants and the sweetest moans.
She leans into my urgency, giving me what I demand from her without the slightest hesitation.
It guts me harder than any cut in the ring ever has.
She lifts her hands to my chest, her fingers digging into the fabric of my top and demanding more. Then they move to my face, the part uncovered by my mask. Close enough to feel the scars.
I pull back, tugging the mask down before uncovering her eyes.
She blinks, her lips still slightly parted and her cheeks flushed.
‘I’m sorry,’ she says. ‘I got carried away.’
I cup her chin in one gloved hand, stroking her jaw with my thumb. ‘You never need to apologise to me. I’m just not ready for that yet. I will be, one day.’
When I think who I really am won’t make you run. When I earn your love by catching the fucker following you. I know I don’t deserve her yet, but maybe I can.
‘Was it what you imagined?’ she asks. ‘Ignore that. You probably didn’t… I mean, you must have kissed so many girls… Look at the size of you. And those dark eyes.’ She blushes furiously, and I adore it.
‘No,’ I say. ‘It’s always been you. Only ever you.’
She looks at me for a long moment, those blue eyes shining.
God, I’d burn the world down to keep her looking at me like she is right now.