28. Sterling
Sterling
Some days later
It’s been me and Elle. Alone together. Blissful days blurring into incredible nights. Still, it’s not enough. For either of us.
The shack was enough when all I needed was a place to fall apart.
But she’s here now. She deserves better.
And every part of me is restless with that thought.
So I’m taking her out, past the edge of the trees, down a narrow dirt path, and past the ridge where rocks jut out, sharp and jagged, ready to cut.
But I’m guiding Elle through it, making sure she’s safe.
Besides, it’s not far, but it is hidden, like everything I’ve ever wanted to keep for myself.
When we step into a clearing, I can see the hot spring’s still there, steaming and untouched.
It’s a place I used to go to when silence was the only thing that didn’t hurt.
When I needed to bleed in peace. Now she’s here too.
And somehow, it doesn’t feel like a reminder of my loneliness anymore.
It feels like a gift I never should’ve been allowed.
And now, I’m sharing it with the woman I want to give my everything to.
Elle. My beautiful, sweet Elle. She walks to the edge, bare toes on the rock.
Mist curls around her calves and the pink scars that line them.
Proof of how far she’s come, of what she’s survived.
I almost forget to breathe when I watch her shrug off the only piece of clothing she has on.
My coat on her falls at her feet. She looks over at me with a shy kind of smile.
It doesn’t matter what happened in the past. It can’t. Because she’s mine now. Been mine for a while. It’s her, me, and the hush of water, with the flowing wind and the silent trees.
“I’ve never seen anything like this,” she says softly, her voice nearly swallowed by the sound of the bubbling spring. “It’s beautiful.”
You are. But I don’t say that out loud. Because I don’t trust my voice when I can’t even breathe at the sight of her.
“Are you getting in?” she asks.
I can only nod. After stripping down, I step into the water first to test the temperature for her. The warmth seeps into my skin.
I offer her my hand. She takes it and follows after me, dipping in beside me. The surface barely covers her breasts. Her damp skin swiftly flushes from the heat, her eyes catching the gold of the rising sun.
I reach for her before I can stop myself, my fingers wrapping around her waist under the water. Her breath hitches. “Sterling, I…”
But I don’t let her finish. My mouth’s already on hers, tasting the spring’s steam and her sweetness. Her arms wind around my neck as she presses herself against me. Her skin slides against mine, legs going around my hips, and she sighs out this soft, helpless sound that drives me insane.
I slide my hands down her spine, pulling her tighter. And fuck, I keep kissing her, indulging myself, happy as hell that I have her all to myself. She’s all mine, always was. And I’d give her everything, as long as she asked for it. But it would kill me to share her again.
She breaks the kiss only to press her lips to my jaw, then down my neck, moving with a hunger that burns hotter than the spring itself.
Her breath comes fast and shallow against my skin, and I’m losing whatever control I have left.
She moves onto my lap, sinking down on my cock.
I’ve been ready for her. Always ready for her.
I want to give her everything she wants. Whenever she wants. However she wants.
When she takes all of me in, I bite back a groan, one hand fisting into her hair, the other locking her against me beneath the water. Her hips rock, and I groan out loud this time.
“I don’t want to ever stop,” she whispers, her lips at my ear.
“You won’t have to,” I mumble, barely able to think, let alone talk.
She makes me speechless like my mind can’t function around her. But it doesn’t matter. All I need to think about is how she’s mine. And in this quiet pocket of the world, in this heat and steam and silence, we let go. Everything else can wait. Everything else can burn.
***
She’s tucked against me now, while we’re still in the water, her head resting on my shoulder, cheek damp from steam and sweat. Her fingers trace slow shapes over my chest, her other hand floating in the water, looking too content to move. I am too.
Mist moves over the water in ribbons. Elle always looked like she was too pretty to be real. But here, even more so. The hot spring tints her cheeks pink, makes her hair slick wet, and her body so supple and pliant against mine.
I let my fingers drift over her spine, tracing the curve of her back. She shivers under my touch, moaning softly.
I could stay here forever, listening to her sounds, watching her eyelashes flutter when I brush my lips on her cheek.
She stirs a little, voice drowsy. “You’re staring again.”
I don’t deny it. “Yeah, I am.”
Her head lifts, those blue eyes meeting mine. “What are you thinking about?”
I could lie. But I don’t want to. Not with her. Not anymore. “That you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” I say. “And I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”
She smiles, her fingers sliding up to cup the side of my neck. Her lips find mine in a slow, aching kiss like she knows I needed that more than I needed air.
When we pull apart, she breathes against my lips. “You stayed by my side, Sterling. That’s what you did.”
My hand goes to the back of her head, guiding her to rest against me again.
She melts into me, like we’re two parts of the same whole.
Her breath settles and syncs with mine. And I think, if there’s any peace left in this broken world, it’s here.
With her. In the quiet. In the heat. In the afterglow of something we finally didn’t have to fight for.
The hot spring hisses around us. The sun’s at high noon by now probably. And under the light, she’s glowing, glistening. Perched on my lap, her arms draped around my shoulders. I hold her like she’s everything. Because she is my everything.
“I should’ve been by your side sooner,” I murmur, low and raw.
Elle’s breath catches, sharp and thin, but not in surprise. It’s like something inside her already knows what I’m really referring to. The first fire. Four years ago. I brace myself, but I need her to know. That I remember. That I’m willing to talk about it. Even if she ends up hating me.
She pulls back slightly. Her eyes find mine, wide and glassy, and the fear there cuts right through me.
“I don’t remember it all,” she says, voice shaking around the words. “Only flashes. The flames. The burns.”
She lifts her hand slowly, fingers hovering over my face.
“And your old mask,” she adds.
Then she swallows hard, the pain twisting her mouth before she forces herself to speak again.
“When I’m tired and can’t fight my mind, I relive that memory, as if it’s still happening and I’m in it.”
My throat tightens. I can’t breathe right.
“I want to remember someday,” she whispers. “But not today, Sterling. It still feels like I’m only borrowing pieces of someone else’s nightmare. It hurts to force myself to remember everything.”
She blinks rapidly, lashes wet, but the tears don’t fall.
“I’m scared, Sterling,” she says, her voice so small it almost disappears. “I’m scared because I don’t know if I’ll ever get my past, my memories, or myself back.”
I want to say something—anything—to fix the moment we had that I just had to ruin. But the only thing out of my grimacing mouth that comes out is her name, broken against the mist between us. “Elle…”
She leans in. Her breath shakes between us. “If we keep looking back…” she says, barely louder than the whisper of mist. “If we keep letting the past haunt us, we’ll lose everything in front of us.”
I close my eyes, fighting the ache that rises so fast it blinds me.
Fuck, she doesn’t even see it. How she finds the light, even when it’s buried under so much ash.
How she finds beauty in jagged, jutting rocks promising to cut her open.
She still walks through it all, not afraid to hold on to what could hurt.
She’s shaking in my arms, broken and terrified.
But she’s the bravest person in the entire world.
Because despite the fear, she doesn’t cower or waver.
She walks toward danger, hoping she can at least save someone from it, forgetting all about herself.
That’s why I’ll always be right here with her, to save her, even if it’s from herself. Even if it’s from me.
But before I can say anything—before I can give her the confession scraping up my throat—Elle kisses me, slow and deep, like she knows it’s the only way to stop me.
I moan into her mouth, my hands sliding beneath the water to cup the back of her thighs, steadying her on my lap. But she’s already moving, sinking down again, and my breath punches out of me. Elle’s not running away from me. She remembers bits and pieces, but she’s staying.
Her body rolls against mine. Her quiet gasps and occasional sigh land against my throat. I know she’s distracting me. I can feel it in the way she moves. She’s desperate to stop me from bringing up the past. But fuck, it’s working.
“Sterling.” Her voice wrecks me. “I’m in front of you. I’m staying by your side too.”
I close my eyes, trying to let go of the guilt.
She guides my hands to her heart, whispering, “Don’t hold back.”
So I don’t. The spring water laps around us. Her moans get louder. The heat rises. The sun glows around her.
If this is how we move forward, one breath-stealing kiss at a time, one broken piece mended by her hands, then I’ll follow her into the heat. Every single time.