Chapter 16 #2
“Here.” Theo placed a mug into my outstretched hands. Then he sat in the armchair. “I shouldn’t—” He dragged a hand through his hair. His fingers trembled. “I shouldn’t feel like this.”
I stilled. “Feel like what?”
“Like I’m going to be sick if anything happens to you.” Theo laughed once, a broken sound. “I know, it’s irrational. Luka used to—”
He froze, and my heart plummeted.
I got up on my knees and shuffled toward Theo as though he was a skittish animal.
“You were scared,” I said in a gentle voice. “That’s not irrational.”
“It is.” Theo’s voice cracked, thin and frayed. “You’re not—You’re not mine. I don’t— I don’t get to—”
“Yes,” I interrupted softly. “Yes, you do.”
Theo’s eyes snapped to mine, wide with disbelief.
“I don’t,” he whispered. “I don’t know how. I don’t know how to want someone without—” He broke off as the lightning flashed, the thunder growled, and the windows rattled. Theo flinched.
I reached out, the motion slow and deliberate. “Theo. Look at me.” I moved close enough to touch, but didn’t.
Not yet.
I needed Theo to meet me halfway.
“Can I touch you?” I asked.
Theo sucked in a breath, then gave a tiny nod, trembling.
I laid my hands gently on Theo’s forearms, and a shudder rolled through him, not from fear, but something akin to relief.
I smiled. “I’m here. You’re okay. Breathe with me?”
Theo’s breathing hitched, but he followed my inhale.
“Good,” I whispered. “Again.”
We breathed together, a slow, anchored sound, and gradually, Theo’s trembling lessened.
Theo closed his eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” I murmured. “You were scared.”
Theo opened his eyes again, and I’d never seen someone wear an expression of both devastation and relief. I brushed the hair back from Theo’s forehead, and Theo leaned into the touch, only for a moment but it was enough.
“Why does it feel like losing you would break me when I haven’t even—when we’re not—”
I swallowed. “Because you care.” My voice came out low and raw.
Theo’s breathing caught.
“And because I care too,” I added.
Theo
I should have moved away.
I should have told Cameron I was fine now.
I should have rebuilt the walls, tidied the edges, put everything back where it belonged.
But I didn’t. Cameron’s hands were warm on my forearms. The storm was still howling outside, and my heart was beating too fast, but no longer from panic, but from proximity, relief…
From wanting.
Something inside me gave way in the quiet.
“About the other night…” My voice was raw. “I shouldn’t have kissed you if I wasn’t—”
“You should have,” Cameron interjected. I blinked, and he squeezed my arm. “That kiss…” He swallowed. “I’ve replayed it a thousand times in my head.”
My pulse pounded. “I stopped it. I… I hurt you.”
“You stopped because you were scared,” Cameron corrected. “And you didn’t hurt me. You scared me a little, sure, but only because I didn’t understand.”
I dropped my gaze. “And now?”
Cameron placed his hands on my knees and spread them, moving between them, so close I could feel the heat of him. “Now I know you want me.” I froze, and he tilted his head. “You don’t get like that over someone you don’t want.”
My chest tightened, hot and painful. “I shouldn’t want you.”
Cameron’s breath caught. “Why not?”
Because you’re only twenty-two.
You’re my friend’s brother.
You trust me.
Because Luka—
All the wrong reasons crowded my tongue, but the truth pushed through them.
“Because wanting you feels… dangerous.”
Cameron’s pupils grew larger.
“Then want me anyway.”
My breathing stuttered, and Cameron shifted close enough that I could smell the faint sweetness of my shampoo on Cameron’s hair, citrus on his skin, warmth radiating off him like a slow-burning fire.
“You’ve been fighting this for days,” Cameron murmured. “You don’t have to.”
“I do,” I said, but the protest had no weight. “I can’t lose control with you.”
Cameron’s voice lowered. “Then don’t lose control. Just let go.” He reached up, and stroked his fingers through my hair, the touch featherlight.
I shuddered.
“Let me in,” Cameron whispered.
Something inside me cracked open, the way the sky had cracked earlier, sudden and unstoppable. I cupped Cameron’s jaw, my thumb brushing his cheekbone, and uttered out loud the words that had terrified me all day.
“I haven’t stopped thinking about kissing you.”
Cameron’s exhale was a tremor. “Then do it.”
I didn’t know who moved first. Maybe the gravity between us finally pulled tight enough to close the gap. Our lips met, soft at first, hesitant, testing, then Cameron sighed into me, a low, helpless sound, and I broke.
I kissed Cameron harder, deeper, my hands sliding into Cameron’s hair, Cameron’s fingers gripping my shirt as though he was anchoring himself to the earth. We kissed as if the world outside didn’t exist.
Cameron pulled back enough to whisper against my lips, “Don’t stop this time.”
I opened my eyes. Cameron’s were dark, shining, unwavering.
“I won’t,” I breathed.
God, I meant it.
The storm had already undone me, Cameron had put me back together, and wanting him wasn’t dangerous anymore.
It was inevitable.
I brushed a line of kisses along Cameron’s jaw, then down the column of his throat. Cameron gasped, his fingers tightening in my shirt.
“Tell me you want me.” My voice was barely a whisper.
Cameron replied without hesitation.
“I always have.”
My knees nearly gave out. I rose, tugging Cameron to his feet, and pulled him toward the bedroom. And when Cameron’s fingers laced with mine, I understood exactly what I was doing.
Tonight, I’d burn too.