21. Silas
Silas
W e're back in the concrete jungle, with a cacophony of blaring horns, people yelling, and New Yorkers speed-walking like they're in an Olympic event. It's two days until the end of the year, and everyone’s acting like time’s about to run out on them. Do I look like that too? Like a headless chicken, running around with no clue what I’m even chasing?
I glance at Lauren from the corner of my eye, and it hits me—this is the first time all week I’ve felt even remotely relaxed. And, of course, it’s because of her. No surprise there.
The last three days without her? Complete agony. Everything is in slow motion—day, night, didn’t matter. I wander around my place like some sad ghost, just floating aimlessly, waiting for her to come back and bring me to life again like she’s my personal defibrillator. With every passing second, I could almost feel Lauren's mind racing a thousand miles away from me, slipping through my fingers.
But walking side by side down Fifth Avenue, I don't feel that distance anymore. It’s strange—comforting even. We’re heading straight for the parking garage where I left the Mercedes, and Lauren’s quiet, lost in her thoughts. Meanwhile, the urge to take her hand or pull her under my arm and hold her close is pulsing through me like my heartbeat. Damn , I want these things— need these things—and we haven’t even slept together yet. What the hell is going on with me? We reach the car, and I open the door for her. After my little confession earlier, we both stayed locked in contemplative silence, processing it all. A lot was said, but this time, there wasn’t that fire, that intensity of wanting to rip each other’s clothes off. And that gives me another thought. Am I … in love? Maybe Luca's right. Maybe I’ve always been in love with her, and I was just too stubborn to see it.
As I settle into the driver's seat and start the car, I stop when I think I hear her speak.
“Silas?”
“Yeah?” I say, looking at her out of the corner of my eye, filled with a sense of dread.
“Take me to your apartment.”
My heart’s pounding harder with every floor as the elevator carries us up to my apartment.
Get a grip, you damn virgin .
Lauren’s unusually quiet, staring at the floor, gripping her bag like it’s the only thing keeping her grounded. The sexual tension is thick enough to choke on, and I know I should say something, anything, but I’m frozen. Damn it. I’ve wanted this since I was seventeen—so why do I suddenly feel like a nervous teenager all over again? The doors slide open, and we step directly into my place, which suddenly feels way smaller and less impressive than it should. No sleek furniture or expensive decor can help me now, because this isn’t just a one-night stand. This is the beginning of something I want more than I’ve ever wanted anything. Something I’ll fight for. I want Lauren in my life.
Forever.
But here I am, metaphorically naked, in front of the one woman who’s got me by the balls.
How poetic, Silas.
Lauren sets her bag down on the sofa, walks over to the windows, and gazes out at the … “Is it too egotistical to say New York City is the center of the world?” Lauren asks, her hand pressed against the glass, eyes taking in the glowing cityscape below.
I walk behind her, slow and deliberate, like I’m approaching a skittish puppy—and I'm the poor fool trying to get everything just right. I stop close enough to catch the scent of her perfume, floral and sexy.
It stirs something primal in me.
I brush her hair aside, exposing the curve of her neck and shoulder, and without thinking, I press my nose there, inhaling deeply like I’m some addict. Maybe I am.
“Yeah,” I whisper, my lips grazing her warm skin. “But you can blame Hollywood.”
Lauren tilts her head, inviting me in, and my hands glide down her stomach, pulling her flush against me. Her back and hips press into my stomach, my body humming at the closeness.
“Why?” she breathes, her pulse quickening beneath my lips.
I smile against her neck, loving that I affect her the way she does me. “All the love stories, the personal triumphs, the impossible dreams—they all happen here.” I kiss her, slower this time, savoring the softness. “It’s easy to walk these streets and feel like you have the world at your feet.”
Lauren turns to face me, her eyes glazed and heavy with a new hue I’ve never seen before: lust. She traces my lips with her fingers. We've kissed many times, but I'll never get enough of her; I want her mouth.
She pulls off my cap, letting it fall to the ground, and stands on her tiptoes to get to me. I’ve always been taller than her, but I’ve never noticed it as much as I do now. At this very moment, she looks small, fragile, and entirely mine. Lauren presses her lips against mine. Her eyes are closed, but mine are open, unwilling to look away. The kiss melds and binds us. My hands grasp her waist and push her against the window behind her, pinning her in place. I kiss her fiercely, with Manhattan as our backdrop. Our tongues meet boldly, a surge of electricity between us. I devour her mouth like it’s the first time, tasting her with a hunger I’ve been holding back for too long. Every kiss is deeper, more desperate, as if I’ve been starving for this moment, for her —“Fuck, Lauren”—I groan, lifting her by the hips. She wraps her legs around me and clings to my neck.
I carry her to my bedroom with precision and urgency. This time it’s going to happen; this time, I’m going to make her mine once and for all. I let her body fall onto the plush bed, clumsily removing my clothes, and she does the same. Hungry, desperate for each other. I laugh at the thought that just crossed my mind.
“What?” she says innocently.
I climb onto the bed until I have her under me. “We may be adults now, but we look like two inexperienced teenagers.” I go back to her mouth, and I move around every nook and cranny. “At least that's how you make me feel every time touch you.”
“How many times have you fantasized about this moment while pretending to hate me?” she asks as she caresses my bare back with her fingertips.
I stop and lock my light blue eyes on her green ones. “I lost count.” In one swift movement, I unclasp her bra and her breasts spill out in front of me and I lick my lips in pure hunger. Then her white cotton panties follow. I slide them down her legs slowly. I know I'm torturing myself, but it's the least I deserve.
I crawl back and watch her. “You're fucking beautiful,” I whisper, my voice thick with desire. “You're everything I've ever wanted ... and hated myself for not getting.” The words spill out before I can stop them, raw and unfiltered, as I look down at her—this perfect mix of desire and frustration, someone I've longed for and never thought I'd have.
“Stop talking and come here,” she says, pulling me toward her.
We kiss.
We touch each other as if starved for affection.
My mouth explores every inch of this body I've longed for, loved, and still love. I graze over our centers, creating friction and pressure, building a level of desire I've never known until I can't bear it any longer. Her eyes are heavy with lust, solely focused on me. I've never seen this look before and I feel like a fool for not having done this sooner. I push into her just a little but freeze in place when I realize something. Protection.
Condom, right. I can’t believe I forgot the damn condom.
“I take the pill,” she clarifies quickly when she sees my panic.
“I’m clean,” I confess. “I’ve never been with anyone without protection.”
Lauren Green smiles, and without wasting any time, I sink into her. I savor the sensation, the heat I feel, the tightness of her around me. I thrust slowly, feeling every inch of her.
“Shit …” I whisper, resting my forehead on her shoulder. “Oh, God … ” I mumble nonsensical words.
“What’s wrong?” I hear her concerned voice.
“Too much pleasure, fuck. I’m going to cum in less than a minute, like a fucking virgin.”
She’s so tight, so warm, and soft. Lauren laughs but moves her hips, making me slide in and out, moaning my name just like I always fantasized, pulling me closer to her body, her breasts pressed against my chest, her legs wrapped around my hips. I’ve never experienced this much pleasure in such a basic position, so vanilla. But then again, I’ve never been with a woman like her.There’s no other Lauren in the world.
The rhythm speeds up. Our gazes locked.
“Silas” she moans.
I respond with a groan when I hear my name on her breath, pushing faster, deeper. “Say my name again,” I say, breathless.
“Silas,” she repeats, though I don’t think it’s because I asked. I think she’s as immersed in this as I am.
I’m the one giving her pleasure, the one possessing her at this moment, as much as she possesses me, and it feels so perfect it’s almost terrifying.
I can feel the moment Lauren Green orgasms as she tightens around me, almost milking me completely, allowing me to finish inside her.
I don’t usually moan when I’m having sex, but it seems I can’t keep my damn mouth shut. Not when Lauren is under me, taking my cum, stroking my back.
Not when Lauren is here.
I wake up to the sound of my stomach growling, the kind that demands attention. I glance to my right and see Lauren, curled up under my arm, warm, soft, peaceful. It growls again, but this time, it’s hers.
I check the clock—nine at night. No wonder we’re both starving; we haven’t eaten since that hot chocolate. I smile and gently stroke her leg. “Bunny,” I whisper, “are you hungry?”
She responds with a sleepy little sound, absolutely adorable, but her eyes stay closed. I can’t remember the last time I got out of bed with a smile this genuine. I prepare the only thing I know how to make: scrambled eggs with a bit of bacon on the side, just for me. And because it’s a special moment, I open a bottle of wine. Champagne feels like overkill, though part of me wants to pop it to celebrate what this night means to me. But my inner voice steps in, telling me to cool it. Act calm, collected. If I push too hard, I might scare her off or worse, ruin everything. So I settle for the wine and a quiet moment, pretending I'm not one wrong move away from losing my mind over her. I hear movement behind me, and when I turn around, I see Lauren standing on the other side of the island, yawning and stretching her arms overhead. She's dressed in just the sweater she wore earlier today, her legs bare.
“What time is it?” she asks with a groggy voice as she sits on a stool and leans her elbows on the marble counter.
My feet instinctively draw me closer, as if an irresistible force pulls me into her orbit. I come up behind her, gently enveloping her in my arms, holding her in a long, tender embrace. The world falls away in the quiet, and in that silence, our connection speaks volumes.
“It’s nine-thirty,” I say, resting my mouth on her ear. “I’m making something that could be called dinner if you use your imagination.” I end with a kiss on her cheek.
She looks at me with hungry eyes, the question being whether it's hunger for food or for Silas.
Needless to say, I prefer the latter.
“Anything that lands in front of me is getting devoured,” she says confidently. “I don’t discriminate against food.”
“That’s the biggest lie I’ve ever heard,” I reply, flipping the bacon as the sizzle drowns out half of her words.
Lauren dramatically opens her mouth wide, like she’s demanding a full explanation.
“Okay, remember the second time we talked in school? It was a Thursday. I was in the cafeteria with a tray stacked with food because I had practice that day. You were standing in line, and when I walked by, you gave my tray a look like I was carrying roadkill.”
Lauren immediately covers her face, fully embarrassed.
“And then you called me a serial killer for eating three different animals in one meal,” I add, watching her blush creep through her fingers and her ears turning crimson. “Do you remember what I said to you?” I ask, casually pushing the bacon around like it’s the most serious task in the world.
“Yeah … you said, ‘Because of people like me, vegetarians are public enemy number one,’” she mutters, barely peeking through her fingers.
I grin. “Exactly. And now here you are, the self-proclaimed food diplomat.” Lauren serves herself a plate, adding a strip of bacon. I can't help but raise an eyebrow. “When did you stop being a vegetarian?”
“During college,” she says, nonchalant. “It was hard to stick to the budget. I lived on instant ramen until one day I had a blood pressure spike and ended up in the hospital.”
I freeze mid-bite, fork hovering in the air, as my eyebrows scrunch together in disapproval. The idea of Lauren in a hospital bed twists my stomach.
She notices. “It was just a few days, nothing serious,” she says quickly, like she’s trying to calm a wild animal. “After that, I started eating a bit more balanced, and everything was fine. Now that I can afford it, I try to avoid meat as much as possible.”
“Who took care of you?” I ask, still a little tense.
She gives a small, nostalgic smile. “Emma and my boyfriend at the time.”
I nod, shoving more food into my mouth to disguise the sudden flicker of irritation that surges through me. Why do I ask these things?
“He was sweet. We were together for a few years, but eventually, we went our separate ways.”
“Why?” I ask, pretending to be casual while making a mental note to document every single mistake that guy made for letting Lauren Green slip away.
Wait a minute.
The realization slams into my chest, and I sit up straight, stunned by the simplicity of it all. It’s so obvious I feel like an idiot. All I want from Lauren Green is her. Just her. Damn it.
I want her to be mine, and I want her to want me too. It’s as clear as day, and as the epiphany washes over me, I suddenly notice Lauren’s voice in the background—she’s been talking this entire time while I had the biggest realization of my life.
I want Lauren Green.
Hell, I’m going to marry her.
“… So, that’s why we went our separate ways. It was the right decision,” she finishes, poking at her food. Then she looks up at me. “Have you ever had a girlfriend?” she asks, stuffing her mouth with food, mimicking how I did earlier.
You, hopefully.
I smile to myself at the thought.
“Define girlfriend,” I say, trying to keep my cool.
She rolls her eyes, as she always does, but waits for my real answer.
“Oh! You mean a monogamous relationship?” I tease.
“Yes, Silas, come on,” she responds, pretending to be annoyed.
I want to tell her that she’ll be the first and the last. The words are right there, sitting on the tip of my tongue, and I feel anxiety bubbling in my stomach. But instead, I keep playing dumb. I know I need patience with Lauren. I can win her over, just … slowly.
“No, not really. I might’ve dated someone for a few months, but it never went further than that,” I answer casually.
“Were they too imperfect for Silas Walker?” she teases, nudging me with her shoulder.
“They weren’t Lauren Green,” I reply, locking my eyes with hers, letting the weight of my words hang between us.
Lauren nudges me back, her tone suddenly serious. “Come on, don’t joke.”
But it’s not a joke. Everything feels so crystal clear now, like the answer was staring me in the face all along. All those years, I was looking for something in women, trying to fill an invisible gap, but I never quite knew what it was. Now, I know—I was searching for traces of Lauren. Little pieces of her in people who could never compare.
Until I found her again.
“I’m not joking,” I say, my voice low but steady. “I didn’t realize it before, but I’ve spent my whole life searching for you in unfamiliar faces. And now that I finally have you in front of me, everything makes sense.”
Her smile falters, replaced by something deeper—confusion, maybe fear.
No, don’t run away from me, Bunny, because this fox isn’t letting you slip through his grasp.
I reach out, gently cupping her face, my thumb grazing her cheek as I hold her gaze.
“I’m not joking,” I repeat, more serious than ever. “Take all the time you need to process this, but Lauren, I’m not letting you out of my sight this time.”
I see her swallow hard, clearly shaken by my words, but I’m relieved. Saying it out loud felt right, like it was the only truth left to hold on to. She’s it for me, and I’ll do whatever it takes to ensure she knows that. Her eyes search mine, looking for any hint of deception, but all she finds is honesty—and a promise I intend to keep.
“Silas” she breathes, her voice barely audible, as if she’s trying to form the right words, but nothing comes.
And in this moment, I know there’s only one way to finish what I’ve started. Without hesitation, I close the distance between us, sealing my confession with a kiss.