26. Silas
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
S he still hadn’t noticed me. How? I h ad no fucking clue.
I was right there, plain as day, watching her flit between the shelves, tucking books back into place with that little furrow in her brow that meant she was concentrating.
Something warm and stupid curled in my chest.
It had been four nights of blindfolding her and making her come all over my hand, of watching her fall apart beneath me, wrecked and gasping, clutching at me like I was the only thing tethering her to the Earth.
Four mornings of leaving before she woke up—but making sure she had breakfast waiting, making sure she didn’t open her eyes to an empty space with nothing left behind.
I liked this.
More than I should.
But I couldn’t stay away from her. I’d spent all morning in my office, knee bouncing, fingers drumming against my desk, thoughts tangled up in her, unable to unravel them. She was a drug in my veins, an ache under my skin, something I couldn’t shake no matter how hard I tried.
I needed to get as close as I could.
I wanted to push.
Wanted to see her in the daylight, touch her when the world was still awake, when there weren’t as many shadows to hide in.
But I wasn’t crossing my boundaries any further. Not at all.
I still wouldn’t reveal myself to her. I still wanted to keep her safe.
But this? This was harmless.
Something I thought would make her happy.
Would she be happy? How would she react when she saw me? Would her face light up, a small smile creeping across her lips? Would she roll her eyes, exasperated but amused? Would she scowl, tell me to get lost, pretend she wasn’t at least a little bit pleased to see me?
Whatever it was, I wanted to see it.
Needed to see it.
This was it.
She was walking straight toward me, head down, scanning something on a clipboard, completely unaware. Any second now, she’d look up, spot me standing right—
The little bell at the counter rang, and her head snapped up over her shoulder. “I’ll be right there with you, one sec!”
Per l’amor di Dio.
I leaned back against a bookshelf, arms crossed, watching as she made her way to the customer waiting at the register.
“Oh my God, it’s you.” A sharp, breathless whisper came from next to me.
I glanced down.
Molly.
She was standing barely a foot away, copper hair twisted into two braids, eyes wide and shining as she took me in, her expression bouncing between shock and glee.
“You’re so much taller this close up,” she blurted, blinking up at me like I’d stepped out of a superhero film.
I didn’t say a word. Just lifted a finger to my lips. ‘ Shhh.’
Her brows shot up, mouth snapping shut so fast her teeth clicked.
To her credit, she didn’t immediately start shouting. Didn’t call Lilith over. Didn’t grab me by the scarf and demand answers. She just stared. Then, after a beat, she shuffled closer, settling in beside me, watching Lilith work like we were two conspirators hiding out in a trench.
Lilith’s fingers drummed absently against the counter as she talked and smiled, the same soft, absentminded rhythm she did whenever she was thinking. Her hair caught under the low light of the shop, waves gleaming like spilled ink over her shoulders.
I wasn’t the only one watching. The customer was watching too.
Older, maybe mid-fifties, with a stained collar and sweat beading on his neck. His gaze on her chest lingered a little too long, body leaning in just a little too much. Not enough to be obvious, but enough to be intentional.
She laughed at something he said, but her body stiffened slightly, that tiny shift of weight backward. A hesitation.
My fingers flexed against my sleeves as I exhaled sharply through my nose.
“What’s the special occasion?” Molly whispered from next to me.
I didn’t answer.
“Is this your way of proposing? Sweeping her off her feet?”
Nothing.
“Oh, le t me guess—you’re here to carry on lurking menacingly like a discount Batman?”
My hand moved and clamped right over her mouth.
She made a quiet muffled noise of outrage and twisted sharply, trying to wriggle free, but I could barely register it.
His hand.
On her wrist.
Her smile stayed in place, but her fingers stopped drumming. Her body went completely still.
My muscles locked up.
This guy wasn’t saying anything inappropriate from what I could hear, but I knew that posture, that angle, that touch masked as politeness.
Something coiled around my ribs, my instincts screaming at me to do something. To step in. To yank his disgusting little hand off her right away.
Molly peeled my hand off her face and held it away like I was diseased. “Down, boy,” she whispered. “Let her handle it.”
Nope. I definitely wasn’t going to let her handle it.
Grabbing the nearest book off the shelf, I strode straight to the counter, dropping it with a loud thud . “I’d like to buy this, please.”
Lilith’s eyes went wide, and the guy startled, snapping his hand back. She hesitated for half a second, blinking at me, then slowly looked down at the book I’d slammed between us.
Her lips twitched. “The Joy of Crochet, huh?”
I looked at it myself. A hardcover edition, featuring some elderly woman holding coloured yarn and smiling like she’d just been handed the key to eternal happiness.
I looked back at Lilith. Nodded once. “Yep. I love crafts.”
Behind me, Molly choked out something that definitely wasn’t a cough.
“I’m just serving this customer,” she said, eyes flicking back to mine. “I’ll be with you in a moment.”
I nodded again, stepping back half a pace.
She rang him up quickly. He was silent now. Good.
“Have a great day,” I said to him as he scurried toward the door. He glanced over his shoulder but didn’t say a word, just walked out.
“Twenty-four ninety-nine.” Lilith’s voice pulled me back.
“For a book about crochet?”
She smirked. “Yep.”
I pulled out my wallet, flicking through the bills, then handed her a crisp hundred in cash. “Keep the change.”
Her finge rs brushed mine as she took it. I could see the way her lips trembled as she tried to hold back an actual smile. “Gee thanks.”
The corner of my mouth twitched under my scarf. That was good. That meant she wasn’t pissed.
I leaned my elbows on the counter, levelling with her. “Anytime.”
“You didn’t have to do that, you know.”
“Do what?” I asked, tilting my head slightly.
“Chase the guy off.”
“I didn’t chase him off.”
She arched a brow. “You bought a crochet book to assert dominance.”
“No, I didn’t.”
She crossed her arms, eyeing me up and down. “Then what did you buy it for?”
“To make you a scarf.” The second it left my mouth, I regretted it. I really was a horrific liar.
“Are you being serious?” she asked, brows raised.
No. Absolutely not. The only thing I’d ever actually crafted with my hands was a disaster. Finn convinced me to go to a paint-n-sip to ‘ check out the mom’s’ and it had ended with no pottery and a small army of women screaming at us.
“Yeah,” I said instead. “To match that hoodie that looks so damn good on you.”
Her eyes widened and her cheeks flushed pink.
Oh , I liked that.
She scoffed, shaking her head. “You’re ridiculous.”
I met her gaze, dead serious. “No, I’m not.”
She let out a breathy laugh, and I leaned in a fraction, lowering my voice. “Lilith, there’s not a lot I wouldn’t do for you.”
A pause. A slow blink.
“So, yeah.” I straightened. “I think I could crochet you a scarf.”
Her breath hitched, so soft I almost didn’t catch it.
“You really do look damn good in my clothes, Lilith.”
Her brows flicked up, lips twitching like she was fighting a grin. She tugged at the oversized sleeves of my hoodie— my hoodie— rolling them higher up her arms like she owned the damn thing.
She stretched lazily, rolling her shoulders. “Oh, this is yours?” she asked. “Didn’t notice.”
I arched a brow. “Mhm. Sure.”
She grinned, shifting her weight onto one hip. “I just saw it at the end of my empty bed and figured it was mine.”
My own smirk deepened. Empty bed. Yeah, I caught that.
“Did you at least like the breakfast I left?” I asked.
“Fuckin g delicious,” she said immediately, rolling her eyes. “Thanks.”
She could brush it off as quickly as she wanted, but I caught it—the flicker of something else underneath that bite.
And it felt good, giving her what she needed in whatever form I could give it without getting too close.
I stepped back, flipping the crochet book in my hand like I had every intention of reading the damn thing.
“I’ll see you tonight,” I said.
“Will you?”
I nodded once. “Yep.”
I turned on my heel before she could say anything else, tucking the stupid book under my arm as I made my way toward the door.
Just as it swung shut, I caught Molly’s barely contained squeal, followed by Lilith’s sharp, “Oh, for the love of all things good in the world, don’t start.”
The mid-afternoon air was cold enough that my breath curled in the air as I exhaled.
I had to get back to work. That should’ve been my focus.
That should’ve been the only thing in my head.
But I knew, deep down, it wasn’t going to be.
I adjusted my scarf, shoving my free hand into my coat pocket as I made my way down the street, my mind a conflicting mess of thoughts.
I could still hear my own voice in my head. ‘ Lilith, there’s not a lot I wouldn’t do for you.’
It had slipped out as easy as breathing, and I hadn’t even thought twice about it at the time. But now? Now it was sinking in, weaving itself deep into something undeniable.
There really wasn’t a lot I wouldn’t do for her.
If she asked me to drop to my knees and beg for her? I would. If she told me to follow her to every corner of the Earth? Done. If she said jump, I’d be in the air before she’d finished speaking.
I picked up my pace as I headed into the heart of the city, straight for the office. She had no idea, no idea of what I’d do.
Jealous. I’d just gotten jealous and had to insert myself into a situation that wasn’t even my business.
And that wasn’t even the tip of the iceberg.
Hell, I’d already beaten the shit out of her pathetic prick of an ex, and she still didn’t know.
My self-control for her and around her was almost non-existent.
My phone buzzed in my pocket.
Lilith
Bring your A-game, big guy.
Lilith
Oh, and I’d like my scarf in black. Thanks.
I stopped dead in my tracks and my grip tightened around my phone, thumb hovering over the screen.
Bring my A-game? What did that mean? Did she want more than what I’d been giving her?
Heat curled at the base of my spine, pulling tight through every nerve, stretching up through my ribcage, winding into the tendons in my neck and jaw until it felt like my whole body was strung on a single, burning thread.
I couldn’t fuck her. I knew I couldn’t do that.
I couldn’t risk giving her everything. I knew how it ended. I couldn’t do that to her.
But she deserved more than what I’d been giving to her. Hell, she deserved everything.
That was the problem.
If I lost all control—if she got too close—it wouldn’t end with me inside her.
It ended with her hurt. Broken. Worse…
I clenched my fists as I carried on walking, trying to shove the thought down.
I couldn’t give her me.
Not all of me. But I could give her something close.