Chapter 6
LILLITH
Lillith didn’t go straight home. She told herself she would.
She told herself that Ember was probably waiting up, and that she should be responsible for once in her life and not wander around a city she barely knew, but her feet had other plans.
They slowed the second she stepped outside the diner and then stopped.
Then, without her permission, they turned back toward him. God, she was an idiot.
The neon light from the diner buzzed overhead, casting everything in a flickering glow as she wrapped her arms around herself and stared down the street.
She should leave. She should walk away and pretend that none of this mattered.
But for some reason, it did, and that was the problem.
Tank mattered, and she didn’t even know him.
Lillith huffed out a breath, shaking her head. “Get it together,” she muttered to herself. She took one step away from the diner, then another, and then she heard him call her name.
“Lillith,” Tank shouted into the darkness.
Her name stopped her cold, and she turned, slowly.
Tank stood just outside the diner door, like he’d followed her out without meaning to.
His hands were shoved into his pockets, his shoulders tense, and his eyes locked on her like she was something he couldn’t quite figure out.
“Yeah?” she asked, trying for casual and failing miserably. He took a step toward her, stopping just close enough that she could see the conflict written all over his face.
“I shouldn’t have asked you to meet me,” he said.
Lillith blinked. “Wow. You really know how to make a girl feel special.”
His jaw tightened. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Then what did you mean?” she shot back, crossing her arms. Tank ran a hand through his hair, looking frustrated—at her, or at himself, she wasn’t sure which.
“It’s not safe,” he said finally.
“There it is again,” she said, her voice softer this time. “You keep saying that like I’m made of glass.”
“You are compared to what’s coming for me,” he insisted. The words hit harder than she expected them to. For a second, neither of them spoke. The night stretched around them—quiet, heavy, and charged with everything that neither of them was saying.
Lillith swallowed, studying him. “Then maybe you should stop deciding what I can handle, because you don’t know me, Tank.”
Tank’s eyes snapped back to hers. “You don’t know what you’re asking for,” he said.
“And you don’t know me well enough to make that call,” she fired back. Silence fell again, and this time, it was thicker.
He stepped closer—close enough that she could feel his warm breath on her face.
He stood close enough that she could feel the heat coming off him, could see the tiny scar just under his eye, and could smell the faint mix of leather and something darker that clung to him.
He was so close that her heart started doing stupid things in her chest.
“You should go home,” he said, but his voice didn’t have the same bite it did before.
Lillith tilted her head. “You first.”
His lips twitched, but just barely. “Not how this works. Besides, I don’t have a home to go back to.”
“Says who?” she challenged.
“Says the guy who’s trying to keep you out of trouble,” he said.
She laughed softly. “Too late for that.” Something shifted in his expression, and for a second, she wondered if she had hit a nerve.
“Yeah,” he muttered. “That’s what I’m afraid of.
” For a moment, she thought he might say more.
She thought he might finally tell her what had him so wound tight and ready to bolt at a second’s notice, but he didn’t.
Of course, he didn’t, because men like Tank didn’t hand over their secrets. They buried them.
“Look,” she said, softening just a little. “I’m not asking you to spill your life story. I just—” She trailed off, searching for the right words. “I like you.” There, she said it, and there was no taking it back now. Tank went still, completely still, like she’d just said something dangerous.
“You shouldn’t,” he said quietly.
Lillith shrugged, even though her chest felt tight. “Probably not,” she said. He stepped closer until there was barely any space between them.
“And yet?” he asked. She met his gaze and didn’t look away. “Yet here we are,” he finished as his hand lifted like he was going to touch her. He stopped halfway up and dropped his hand back to his side. “Lillith,” he breathed.
“Don’t,” she said quickly. “Don’t do that thing where you push me away and pretend like you don’t feel the same sparks that I feel every time we’re in the same space. I felt it as soon as you walked into the church earlier today.”
His jaw clenched. “It’s not that simple.”
“It could be,” she said. “You’re the one making it complicated.”
“Because it is complicated,” he snapped, before immediately looking like he regretted it.
Lillith didn’t back down. “Then maybe you should let me decide if it’s worth it,” she said quietly. Tank stared at her like she’d just flipped something upside down inside him.
“You don’t walk away from things easily, do you?” he asked.
She smiled, just a little. “Not when I think that they matter.”
“Fuck,” he muttered. And before she could even process what was happening, his hand came up, cupping the back of her neck, pulling her in closer as his mouth crashed against hers.
The kiss was hard and fast, like he’d been holding it back and finally lost the fight.
Lillith gasped against him, her hands grabbing onto his shirt like she needed something to ground her.
He tasted like coffee and bad decisions, and God help her, she leaned into him and kissed him back just as hard.
Because if this was a mistake, she was done playing it safe.
His grip tightened, his other hand coming to her waist, pulling her flush against him like he couldn’t get close enough, and for a second, the world disappeared.
There was no past, and no running. She was done asking questions.
There was just him and the chemistry she felt every time he looked at her.
Tank broke the kiss like it burned him, and stepped back, breathing hard, his eyes dark and conflicted. “Yeah,” he said roughly. “That was a bad idea.”
Lillith blinked, her lips tingling still as her heart raced. “You think that kissing me was a bad idea?” She wasn’t sure if she felt hurt or just pissed off that he said that.
He dragged a hand through his hair again. “You need to go home.”
She stared at him. “You’re unbelievable,” she said, half laughing.
“And you’re still here, when you should be walking away,” he shot back. She should’ve been annoyed or mad, but instead, she smiled at him. Because for the first time since she’d met him, he looked just as wrecked as she felt.
“Goodnight, Tank,” she said softly.
He hesitated and then nodded. “Night, Lillith.” This time, she walked away, and she didn’t turn back. But she felt his eyes on her the entire time, and somehow, that made leaving even harder.
Lillith made it back to the house without getting lost, and that felt like a win.
Everything else that happened with Tank—not so much.
Her lips still tingled from their kiss, and her heart still felt like it was racing.
Her brain, well, that thing had completely checked out somewhere between bad idea and holy shit, he kissed me.
“Get it together,” she muttered under her breath as she pushed the front door open. The house was quiet, and for a split second, she thought maybe Ember had gone to bed—but then the light in the kitchen flicked on.
“Thought you got kidnapped,” Ember drawled.
Lillith jumped, clutching her chest. “Jesus, Ember. You trying to kill me?” Her sister leaned against the counter, with her arms crossed, looking way too amused for someone who had clearly been waiting up.
“Depends,” Ember said. “Do you deserve to die?”
Lillith rolled her eyes, kicking off her shoes. “Probably,” she admitted.
“Mm-hmm.” Ember pushed off the counter and grabbed a glass, filling it with water before sliding it across the island. “So?”
“So what?” Lillith asked, taking the glass even though her throat felt too tight to swallow. Ember just stared at her as Lillith stared back.
“You met him,” Ember said. It wasn’t a question, and Lillith knew that lying to her wasn’t going to get her anywhere.
Lillith sighed, dropping onto one of the stools. “Yeah.”
“And?” Ember asked. Lillith took a long sip of water like it might buy her time, but it didn’t.
“He’s complicated,” she said finally.
Ember snorted. “No shit. I could have told you that just by looking at him.”
Lillith shot her a look. “You don’t even know him.”
“I don’t have to,” Ember said. “I know his type.” That made something in Lillith’s chest tighten.
“Yeah?” she asked quietly. “And what type is that?”
“The kind that looks at you like you’re something he wants,” Ember said, her voice going a little sharper, “but keeps one foot out the door like he’s already planning his exit.” Lillith went still, because that was exactly how Tank acted around her.
“Damn,” she muttered. “You got all that from a five-minute interaction?”
Ember shrugged. “I’ve lived a life, Lillith. You don’t run a club like mine without learning how to read people.” That was fair, but it didn’t mean Lillith liked hearing it out loud.
“He kissed me,” she admitted. The words slipped out before she could stop them, and Ember froze—actually froze.
“He what?” she asked.
Lillith winced. “Yeah, he um, he kissed me,” she stammered.
A slow smile spread across Ember’s face. “Okay, I like him a little more now.”
Lillith choked on her water. “That’s not the reaction I was expecting.”
“What?” Ember said. “You wanted me to threaten to beat him up or something?”
“I don’t know,” Lillith admitted. “Maybe a little.”
“Don’t worry,” Ember said lightly. “If he hurts you, I’ll absolutely threaten him.”
“Comforting,” Lillith teased. “Are you always this aggressive?”
“Yep,” Ember said. “You don’t know me yet, but I protect what’s mine, and that includes you now, since you’re my sister.”
Ember’s expression softened just a fraction. “Did he hurt you?” she asked. Lillith hesitated, because the answer wasn’t simple.
“No,” she said finally. “Not really.”
“But there’s more, right?” Ember asked.
“He keeps trying to push me away,” she admitted. “Like he wants me to leave him alone.”
Ember nodded like she expected that. “Yeah, that tracks.”
“It’s annoying,” Lillith said, even though that wasn’t the whole truth. “Like, pick a lane, you know? Either you want me, or you don’t.”
“And what do you want?” Ember asked. Lillith looked down at her hands, picking at a nonexistent thread on her jeans.
“I don’t know,” she said quietly. “I just got here. I just found you. I should be focused on that, right?”
“You should,” Ember agreed. “But are you?”
Lillith let out a breath. “No.” Ember hummed softly, like she already knew that was going to be her answer.
“Look,” she said, leaning forward on the counter. “I’m not gonna tell you what to do. You’re grown. But guys like him? They come with baggage.”
Lillith snorted. “Have you met me?” That earned her a laugh.
“Fair point,” Ember admitted.
“You like him,” Ember said finally. Lillith didn’t deny it because there was no reason to.
“Yeah,” she whispered.
Ember nodded slowly. “Then just be careful.”
“I will,” Lillith promised, even though she wasn’t sure she knew how, because careful had never really been her thing.
“I’m going to bed,” she said. “Thanks for the talk, Ember.” She hadn’t had girl talk since her mother died, and it was nice to have another woman to confide in—even if she didn’t know Ember that well.
She had a feeling that the two of them were going to be good friends, and that just made her heart happy.
“Night, Lillith,” Ember called after her as she walked up the stairs to her room. Yeah, she was going to like having a big sister in her corner.
Lillith lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling.
Sleep—yeah, that wasn’t happening. Not with her mind replaying every second outside that diner like it was on a loop.
She remembered the way he said her name, the way he looked at her, and the way he kissed her like he didn’t know how to stop once he started. That all made her stomach flip.
“Seriously?” she muttered, rolling onto her side and grabbing her phone. She shouldn’t text him. She knew she shouldn’t, but her thumb moved anyway.
You’re really bad at goodbyes.
She hit send before she could overthink it, and then immediately groaned and buried her face in the pillow. “Idiot,” she breathed. Her phone buzzed, and she quickly flipped it over.
You’re still thinking about that?
Lillith huffed out a soft laugh.
Kind of hard not to.
Three dots appeared on the screen, and then they were gone. She was about to give up staring at her phone when they reappeared.
You should be asleep. She smiled.
You should be gone.
That one took longer for him to respond to—long enough that she thought maybe she’d pushed too far.
Working on it.
Her chest tightened at the thought of him leaving, because something about that didn’t feel like a joke.
You always run this fast? she typed.
The response came slower this time, like he was thinking about it.
Only when I have to.
Lillith stared at the words and then typed before she could stop herself.
And do you have to?
Her heart started to pound a little harder with every second that passed.
Yeah.
One word, that was it. Lillith swallowed as her fingers tightened around her phone. She could leave it there and let him go. She should be the smart one for once, but she knew that wasn’t going to happen.
That sucks, she sent.
Yeah, it does.
Lillith stared at the screen, something in her chest pulling tight. “Great,” she whispered. “I’m catching feelings for a guy who’s already halfway out the door.” Her phone buzzed again.
Get some sleep, Lillith. She smiled softly to herself.
You too, Tank.
I won’t.
Her smile faded just a little because somehow, she believed him, and that worried her more than anything.