Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
Cassie
A hundred years from now, he’ll still be thinking of me. And I’ll be dead.
My stomach pitches.
For whatever reason, that fact hasn’t crossed my mind before now.
He’ll live on, his soul cursed to haunt this cornfield forever, and I’ll age, grow old, and die. Like everyone in his family, everyone else he’s ever known.
Suddenly, the rest of my life doesn’t seem very long at all. Not when I compare it to the future that awaits Atticus.
As if our time together wasn’t already precious. Now, it feels sacred.
Hallowed.
“I… I don’t know what to say,” I manage as my brain does mental acrobatics.
I’ve always known that nothing between Atticus and I could ever be sustainable. How could it?
But the thought of my life going on while his is frozen in time doesn’t sit well with me. Even if I visit him every week for the rest of forever, it would ultimately end.
And I’ll be just another memory for him.
“You don’t have to say anything,” he assures me. “I’m just glad that it didn’t scare you away. You mean a lot to me, Cassie.”
His words float around me, and my pulse slams harder through my veins. Everything seems to be moving too quickly and not fast enough all at once. Like I’m running at full speed while standing still.
My head swims.
“Cassie?” he repeats when I don’t say anything. “Are you alright?”
My breaths come quicker as my panic rises, even though I try not to think about the future. It’s too much, too messy, and too disappointing if we don’t find a way to break his curse.
So, I do the only thing I can do: I distract myself.
“I’m fine.” I force a smile onto my face. “Can I see your face again?”
To my relief, he doesn’t hesitate, his hands immediately going for the rope around his neck. He unwinds it and pulls off the burlap, tossing it to the ground with his hat.
I stare, drinking in his handsome features. He looks the same as before, but his gray skin is smoother, more vibrant. Like he just took the best nap of his life.
“Much better.” I grin, and my heart skips a funny beat when my eyes land on his mouth. “Now, it’s my turn to show you something.”
One of his viney eyebrows lifts, along with the corner of his lips.
“You have to close your eyes, though,” I assure him.
He chuckles once. “Really?”
“Fair is fair.” I nod.
A grin spreads across his face, and he obeys. “Now what?”
“Now, don’t move.”
Swallowing the nerves threatening to overtake me, I wave my hand in front of his face to make sure he isn’t peeking. Satisfied, I take a tiny step closer, then another, eliminating as much space between us as possible without touching him.
When I’m close enough, his breath plays over my skin, making my stomach somersault.
Before I can chicken out or change my mind, I lean forward and press my lips to his. It’s brief, barely a brush of skin on skin, but it sends an electric shock zipping through me. Despite the coolness of his lips, warmth rolls through me, and my heart lodges in my throat.
His breath stutters as I kiss him again.
“Can I move now?” he murmurs against my mouth without opening his eyes.
Is that what he’s waiting for? Approval?
I giggle.
Such a gentleman.
“Yes,” I whisper. “You can.”
No sooner do the words leave my mouth than he comes alive, grabbing me by the hips and tugging me against him. I squeak before his mouth crashes against mine, his lips chasing mine in a frenzied dance, and heat blooms low in my belly.
My hands dance up his torso and over his shoulders, locking behind his neck.
One of his hands presses against the small of my back, pulling me closer even though there’s no space left between us.
Still, we aren’t close enough. I want to be so close to him that I can’t tell where I end and he begins.
His kisses take my breath away, and when he pulls away, I’m gasping for air. I open my eyes to find him watching me, his own gleaming.
“Oh, how I’ve wanted to do that,” he says, his voice low. “To feel you, taste you.”
My lips are tingling, aching to feel “What were you waiting for?”
“A miracle.” His voice is light-hearted, but something dark passes over his expression. Sadness? “I was waiting for this curse to break, for me to be normal again, but I don’t know if it’s possible.”
I brush my nose against his, my lips moving dangerously close to his again. “Why does that matter?”
“Because… you can’t want me like this.” His shoulders sag, and his arms slacken around me. “If there’s anything you deserve, it’s the best man this world has to offer. I’m not even a man, Cassie, I’m a monster.”
“I don’t see you as a monster, Atticus.” I press my lips to his cheek, breathing in his comforting earthy scent. “And you’re wrong—I can want you like this, and I do. I want you exactly as you are. Is that not obvious?”
He doesn’t move or say anything, waiting like I’m about to take it all back, but I won’t.
I’ve tried to deny it, tried to explain it away as curiosity, but I finally realize what this feeling is that I haven’t been able to shake since I freed him from the stake: desire.
His knuckles brush along my jaw, his fingers dropping to tease my neck. “Even if this is all we can ever have? Stolen moments in a cornfield.”
I nod.
A soft smile curves his lips as his hand cups the back of my neck. He drags me back in for another kiss, this one slow and deep.
“If you’re sure, I think it’s only fair that you know what I want,” he says.
The heat that’s been steadily brewing in me blossoms into an inferno as his hands dance down my back and over my hips.
“What do you want, Atticus?”
He doesn’t miss a beat.
“You.” He dips to press his lips against the side of my neck. “Let me worship your body any way I can, even if it’s just this once.”
My pussy clenches at the word ‘worship’, a sliver of nerves slipping up my spine. I’d considered the same exact thing earlier today, but now that I’m here, I’m hesitant. What if it’s not what I expect?
What if it’s not what he expects?
He kisses his way around my throat, and my head falls back as my eyes close. His lips move over my skin like they already know what I like, and my thoughts haze over.
“I won’t do anything you don’t want me to,” he assures me as hip lips tease my jawline. “Just let me show you how thoroughly obsessed I am with you.”
My knees go weak, and I’m thankful for his arms around me. Otherwise, I’d be a puddle on the ground.
“Please, Atticus,” I beg, shivering as his hands dip beneath my sweater and brush over my bare skin. “Show me.”