Chapter Twenty-Four #2
Remi gave her a sad smile. “Yeah, it really does.”
Skye bit the inside of her lip as she angled her body toward him and slid her hands from his wrists, over his forearms, up his biceps, and along his neck, to tilt his face up to meet hers.
“It might not mean much coming from me, but I’m proud of you.
I was so proud to be Tilted Haze’s band manager.
Every show you guys put on, every song you sang, I could feel the passion in it.
The fans feel it too. And you should be proud of yourself for that.
Your talent, your hard work. It’s incredible. ”
Remi leaned forward, planting one hand behind her.
Their faces were close enough that she could feel his breath on her lips.
“Why did you come, Skye? You could have left me in jail. I wouldn’t have blamed you.
No one would have. Not after how I treated you, but you came back. Was it for the bargain?”
Skye averted her gaze. Remi gave her the perfect excuse. She could tell him it was for the bargain, even as the truth was ringing in her head.
Because demons aren’t supposed to get addicted to a soul. Because, even without yours, sitting next to you is the first time I’ve been able to inhale a full breath in weeks.
“I believe in the band,” Skye said. “I want to see you guys get everything you want. Everything you deserve.”
Remi hummed in acquiescence. Skye wondered if he could hear the unspoken words behind those two sentences. I believe in you. I want to see you get everything you want and deserve.
The arm that was at Skye’s back inched closer. Remi’s free hand cupped her jaw. “I want…”
Skye fluttered her eyes shut as he pressed his lips to hers. Quick, chaste, gentle.
But his palm on her face felt off, too smooth. She opened her eyes and pulled his hand down, cradling it within her own. The skin was pink like a wound had healed with new skin.
“What happened?” she asked.
“It’s nothing.”
“It looks like a burn…” Skye furrowed her brows and met his sheepish gaze.
“You…when you left. Before. I, uh, I tried to stop you from leaving, and the flames burned me. It was stupid. I shouldn’t have put my hand in the fire. I think I just assumed they weren’t like burning flames. It was dumb. It’s fine now.”
“Remi…” Skye said, something was cracking open inside her. “I’m s-s-orry.” The last word was croaked out, choppy from never having been said with any sincerity before. Demons didn’t feel contrition, but Remi’s physical pain made something claw her insides. She didn’t like it.
“It’s fine—it’s my own fault.”
“No,” she said, gritting her teeth. There was a weird sensation building inside her. She took a moment to try to decipher it, to approximate where it was located, but could only feel a growing pressure behind her eyes, a thickness in her chest, and then it hit her.
Remorse. Was this a demon’s version of remorse?
She cleared her throat and tried again. “It’s not just that. I’m sorry for manipulating you. For getting you fired from your job. For forcing your hand with the bargain. For making your life harder.”
She didn’t really regret everything she’d done, but she meant the apology. She didn’t want to manipulate him or his emotions anymore.
Remi yanked his hand from hers, and Skye didn’t blame him. He probably didn’t even believe her—she could hardly believe herself.
But he’d only pulled his hand away to resume cupping her cheek. Both hands held her face, his thumbs stroking along her cheekbones. “I’m sorry too, Skye. I—I know that I blamed you for a lot of stuff that wasn’t your fault. I just needed someone to be angry at. It wasn’t fair to do that to you.”
She shook her head. “It makes sense. Of course you didn’t trust me.”
“I do, though. That’s the thing, Skye. I did trust you, and that was terrifying. I’m so sorry.”
She nodded. “Okay.”
They stared into one another’s eyes for a moment. Skye pressed her lips together and shifted on the bed.
Were they done talking about emotions now? She was deeply uncomfortable. She didn’t know if she was doing any of this right, and she hated not being good at things.
“So we both forgive each other?” she finally asked.
Remi laughed. “Yeah, I think so. Look at us being all mature and shit.”
He started to pull away, but she squeezed his biceps to keep him close and kissed him. He tilted his head to take her mouth in a sweet, reverent softness. It reminded her of the way he kissed her in his dreams. How simple it had been between them.
Skye had blamed his soul for the way she’d gotten addicted to their time together, but it wasn’t his soul—it was him, just him.
Skye wanted him, soul or no soul. Wanted him soft and gentle like he was now, holding her face in his hands like she deserved a careful touch, thumbs caressing her cheekbone as if she might break.
She wanted him rough and passionate, like he’d been when they taunted one another.
His anger had been the only attention that had been safe to want, the only attention she could understand.
But she stopped trying to understand it. She just let herself want him, all the variations of him, giving in to the bubbling blissful feelings that were swirling within her.
Remi nipped at her bottom lip, and she opened to him. Their tongues twined, and Skye felt every part of her demon blood singing from his touch. Her hands ran up his neck to hold his jaw, to get more of him—
He winced and pulled back.
“Oh shit,” she said, lowering her hands. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” he said, voice a little strangled as he grabbed the ice pack. “Getting punched kinda puts the brakes on making out, doesn’t it?”
Skye chuckled. “Maybe you’ll think about that before you get into a fight next time.”
Remi gave her a half smile—because that was all he was capable of while holding an ice pack to his jaw. Skye replayed her words and realized what they implied. That there would be a next time. A next kiss.
Her heart pounded heavy in her ears. She turned and rummaged around in the first-aid kit again. “Let’s finish this up, yeah? Then we need to talk about crisis management. It’s only a matter of time before your arrest hits the internet.”
“Does that mean you’re staying? You’re managing us?”
Skye smirked. “Well, I don’t trust anyone else to save the tour.”
Remi sighed. “You think it’ll be real bad?”
Skye ripped open a bandage package. “I don’t know yet, but don’t worry. I’ll fix everything.”
The alarmed tint to his eyes fell away as Skye applied the bandage over the gash on his forehead. “I know you will,” he whispered, almost inaudible if not for Skye’s enhanced hearing. “You’re my guardian demon.”
Her hand trembled a little bit, and she rolled her lips together as something fluttered inside her. For some reason her brain latched on to one part of that sentence: my guardian demon. His. She was his.