Chapter Twenty-one
I don’t know how much time passes, hours probably, but I can’t look away. There’s only a few falling stars now, passing by every so often, but it’s mesmerizing, watching them trail through the dark, leaving only awe behind.
Something brushes my hand and I snap my head toward Silas, or rather his hand that touches mine and when I look at him, he gestures beside him to his children who have completely passed out, bundled in a bed made up of blankets and pillows. It’s the cutest thing I have ever seen.
“Should we head back?” I whisper.
“A few more minutes,” he replies, holding my eyes. “Not ready to stop watching yet.”
It’s a bad idea.
It’s. A. Bad. Idea.
I keep repeating it, but it’s not working. I want to kiss him. Dropping my eyes to his mouth, I shuffle closer, curling my fingers around his hand, the rough skin scratching against mine.
“Juni,” he rasps, and I pause, waiting, watching him as he wars with himself. We both know we shouldn’t.
He rolls onto his side to face me, hand reaching up to slide across my jaw before his fingers thread into my hair, pulling it slightly loose from the bun I put it in.
My skin erupts with goosebumps; the touch of his hand washing warmth through me.
He’s so close, his breath brushes my lips, and I can see all the gold flecks in his eyes.
I’ve never wanted to be kissed so badly.
“Tell me not to kiss you, Juni,” he whispers. “Tell me to let you go.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him that. To tell him we shouldn’t do this, but that isn’t what comes out of my mouth. “I can’t.”
“You’re too fucking good for me,” he growls, and I don’t have time to respond, not when his lips land on mine and every thought empties out of my head.
There’s no restraint, no hesitancy; it just is.
He tastes as good as he smells, no better, warm and right as his tongue sweeps between my lips.
His fingers flex against my scalp as he moves over me so half of him covers my body, pressing me down into the bed of the truck.
I widen my lips and match his tongue, stroke for stroke, fingers curling into his shirt, afraid that if I let go, he’ll disappear.
His kiss is deep and claiming; the scratch of his facial hair, the press of his fingers all working together to work me into a knot I don’t want to loosen, but then he’s pulling away and I’m chasing after him.
His lips press to the corner of my mouth and then the other, and then they’re at my jawline, my throat, my heart steadily increasing with every pass of his mouth.
He moves back to my lips, this kiss softer, gentler before he pulls away and his face is hovering above mine.
He looks at me as if I am the falling stars we both just witnessed.
With awe and wonder, with a yearning that if he just reaches out a hand, he may be able to touch one.
Catch a falling star in the palm of his hand to cherish.
The look has something in my chest opening up and squeezing all at the same time.
Leaning down, he presses one more chaste kiss to my lips and then pulls away entirely. “We should head back.”
Slowly, I sit up, my shoulder bumping into his.
He turns to face me; his mouth still wet from our kiss.
“One more,” he breathes.
“Please,” I whisper back, watching the corner of his mouth lift into a slight grin before he leans back in, hand cradling the side of my face as he kisses me again.
Softly, he drags his tongue across my lips until I part for him, and he kisses me like I am the most precious thing in the world.
Kisses me like I mean something more to him and he wants every second to last.
I have never been kissed the way Silas is kissing me.
His thumb sweeps across my cheekbone, and with one more gentle brush of his tongue, he pulls away. And this time, he climbs off the bed of the truck, leaving me here with his two sleeping children.
I drop my head, trying to steady my breathing, wanting to follow him but knowing I can’t. Maybe kissing him was a mistake, but it’s a mistake I’ll keep making. The way he makes me feel is different and more, and it leaves me wanting something I’m not sure I can ever have.
He reaches out a hand to me, helping me off the truck, and I wait while he gathers up his children, gently placing them into the back so we can drive back to the house.
The ride down the mountain is quiet, the trees passing by beyond the window, where pockets of moonlight brighten the thick shadows.
My hands are in my lap while Silas’s are wrapped tightly around the wheel.
Tension fizzles in the air, questions that’ll remain unanswered, wants and needs that won’t be met.
When we finally make it back to the house, I hover in the living room while he puts both Rosie and Caleb to bed, only taking a few minutes since they’re both still out for the count and then he comes to a stop in front of me, his hands sliding into the pockets of his jeans.
Meeting his eyes, I stare up at him, unsure what to say or what to do.
When I don’t think he’s going to do anything, he reaches for a tendril of hair and tucks it behind my ear. “I might have gone crazy if I didn’t find out what you tasted like.” He whispers it so low that I almost don’t catch it.
“What did I taste like?”
“Like sunshine and honey,” he chuckles. “Intoxicating.”
His thumb presses into my bottom lip before he drops his hand and steps away from me, the absence of his touch leaving me cold.
“You should go to bed,” he clears his throat and steps around me, reaching into the cupboard for a glass.
“Okay,” my voice feels tight, his dismissal like a punch, “Good night, Silas.”
“Night Honeybee.” The words are spoken gently, but he doesn’t look at me again, and his shoulders are hiked high, his spine straight. Tension is brimming in his entire body. It isn’t hard to realize he’s regretting it already.
To save myself the humiliation, I flee to my bedroom, clicking the door closed behind me.
I don’t know why my eyes go hot with tears or my throat closes up around a sob, but it does. I don’t bother changing, just slip off my sneakers and pull back the sheets, bringing them up to my chin once I’ve curled up in the middle of the bed that doesn’t smell like him.
My tears drip onto the pillow beneath my face, my breaths coming out shaky as I try to keep my sobs quiet.
It’s ridiculous to cry over this. I won’t ever regret kissing him, not when he made me feel more than I ever thought I was capable of, but this is why I knew it was a bad idea.
Because I knew I’d want to do it again, I knew I’d want more.
For a moment I thought he did too, but then why did he turn his back on me? Why did he dismiss me?
I slip my hand over my mouth to hide my tears, letting them fall until sleep finally drags me down.