Page 28 of Shattered Echoes

An awkward silence stretches between us, thick with silent desires. I glance down at the forgotten controllers lying on the coffee table. Our game, which seemed so important a few moments ago, was now a shadow in my mind. Maybe this whole thing was a mistake.

“It’s getting pretty late,” I say, pulling away from him. His hand hangs on to my waist as if he might resist, but he lets me go, a pained expression on his face. “I’d better head back home now.”

His jaw tightens, and he nods. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

His eyes drift down to my lips, and his hunger is palpable, almost alive. The look on his face awakens something inside me, and it takes everything for me to stifle the low moan that threatens to escape my mouth.

How does he look so good? I can still feel the sensation of the passionate kiss, the pressure and intensity of it. I wonder if he can see his hunger mirrored in my eyes. The way he looks at me… It’s terrifying, but a part of me wants to explore that danger, the darkness lurking inside him.

I blink, stirring awake out of my momentary trance. I get up, and Antonio does the same. The attraction between us is raw and intense. We both ignore it as we walk to the front door.

“Thanks for stopping by,” he says, holding the door open for me. “And I’m sorry, for…”

“Please, Antonio. You have nothing to apologize for. We made a mistake, and that’s all there is to it. Let’s not make a fuss about it, okay?”

His jaw tightens again, and I see that darkness in his eyes once again. “Alright then. I guess I will see you around?”

I force myself to smile. “Of course. We still live next door to each other.” I gulp. “Goodnight, Antonio.”

“Goodnight.” There’s a vulnerability in his voice that tugs at my heartstrings.

I walk out onto the porch, and he shuts the door behind me. I make my way halfway down the steps before I hesitate, looking back at the door. I can still make out Antonio’s outline through the opaque glass.

What am I doing? He's Henry's best friend. Letting this go any further would be a betrayal, wouldn't it?

But even as the thought crosses my mind, another voice whispers. Is it so bad? A fleeting moment of comfort, a brief reprieve from the crushing weight of my nightmares and the gnawing loneliness?

I think of my empty, massive, family home, the silence broken only by the hum of the refrigerator and the occasional creak of the floorboards.

I think of the nightmares that will come, dragging me back into the darkest corners of my memories, leaving me gasping and drenched in sweat.

The memories overwhelm me — the feeling of rough hands pinning me down, the acrid stench of stale whiskey mingling with sweat, my terrified screams that nobody ever seems to hear, the…NO!

I grip the railing, steeling my mind and blocking out the memories. For the first time in weeks, I don’t have to deal with thoughts of Ricardo. I don’t have to wake up in a cold pool of my sweat. The reprieve from the nightly horrors is its own temptation.

And then there’s Antonio. Fierce, dark. Just like me.

I turn around and climb up the stairs. The door swings open in a heartbeat after I push the doorbell. Antonio watches me with confusion for a fraction of a moment, and when I just stand there, looking at him, realization dawns on me.

Without hesitation, he reaches out and takes my hand. He pulls me towards him and locks his lips with mine, wrapping my waist with one arm. My mouth opens for him as I grip the back of his neck, tossing all sense of caution and feelings of betrayal to the wind.

When he pulls back, his face is red, and then there’s a frantic look in his eyes. "Colette," he breathes, his voice a ragged whisper. "I—"

I silence him with another searing kiss, my fingers tangling in his hair, as I pour every ounce of pent-up desire into the embrace. He responds with equal fervor, his hands roaming my body with a hunger that sets my skin ablaze.

When he breaks off the kiss again, it takes my mind a little time to process my surroundings. A soft breeze blows through the open doorway, and for the first time, I realize we are still standing outside.

He takes my hand and leads me in, smiling at me. Underneath his gentle smile, though, lies something else. A beast waiting to pounce. The thought of it weakens my legs, and I stumble.

“Are you okay?” he asks, pushing the door closed and balancing me with his other hand.

Of course I’m not okay. I’m dripping through my panties. “Yeah. I just lost my step,” I say instead.

He pulls back, his eyes searching mine. His gaze lingers on my lips for a beat too long, and the air crackles with energy. Before I can voice the doubts swirling in my head, he leans in again.

This kiss is different. It's slow and deliberate, explore familiar territory with a quiet intensity. His tongue traces the outline of my lips, sending a flash of heat through me. I melt into him, my inhibitions melting away with each deepening breath.

His hand trails down my back, sending shivers down my spine. I feel his fingers brush against the hem of my shirt, giving me a sudden feeling of anticipation. My hand reaches for his neck, tangling itself in his hair again.

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