Page 74 of Stone Cold Touch

“And I know it’s what you’ve wanted. I’ve known for a long time.” His thumbs moved in idle circles as he spoke. “Or has that changed because of him?”

This had nothing to do withhim.To have waited years, to suffer through all my girlish fantasies involving Zayne and think it was utterly hopeless, to now hear these almost sacred words, I didn’t know what to do with them. My heart was expanding in my chest to the point I surely thought it would burst, but there was a rising anxiety that whispered of confusion and fear.

“Why now?” The question slipped out of me.

“Is ‘now is when I finally pulled my head out of my ass’ the wrong answer? I guess it probably isn’t good enough, huh?” He dipped his head to my shoulder, resting his forehead there as his fingers curled around the back of the borrowed shirt, and my breath caught again. “I almost lost you that night Paimon captured you. When I realized you could’ve died?” He shuddered. “That I could’ve died? I didn’t want to deny this any longer. I couldn’t.”

I stared at his bowed head as I slowly brought my hands up. Was that it? Or was it more? Was it because of Roth and the fact that Zayne just didn’t want me with him? Or was it because he now knew I could shift, which made me suitable in some way? Closing my eyes, I ignored the odd knot of unease. He wasn’t like that and had never believed something was faulty with me. I gingerly touched the ends of his hair, and a sigh rattled through him. Zayne wouldn’t lie to me.

The silky soft strands of his hair slipped through my fingers as I wondered if he could feel my heart cracking. Tears pricked at my eyes, wetting my lashes, and I squeezed my eyes shut. It was almost easier months ago, when the idea of Zayne harboring any feelings for me was nothing more than a fairy tale, than hearing this and not being able to act upon it.

“It doesn’t matter,” I said, voice thick. “It’s impossible.”

Zayne drew back, lifting his head. “How so?”

“We can’t... I mean, we couldn’t...” My cheeks flushed, and I ducked my chin.

“We can’t?” His deep, shockingly sexy chuckle rumbled through me. “I think Saturday night proved there’s a lot we can do.”

Heat flowed through me, a mixture of embarrassment and fire that had sparked to life at the reminder of what we’d done. “But it’s too dangerous.”

“I trust you.”

Those three words sounded so simple, but they were confounding. “You shouldn’t. Not like that—not with your life.”

He frowned. “You’ve never given yourself enough credit or believed in yourself enough. As long as I’ve known you, I’ve never felt threatened by what you can do.”

The tears that rushed to my eyes threatened to spill forth, and I was seconds from crying as if I’d watched a marathon of Hallmark movies.

“You’re not evil, Layla. You never have been.” His smile was tremendous, snaking its way through my heart. “And I believe that if I kissed you right now, you wouldn’t take my soul.”

I gasped as I started to lean back. “Don’t you dare try it! I can’t—”

“Relax,” he chuckled.

My muscles were tense. How could I relax after his saying something like that? As much as I cared for and cherished him, I’d wither up and die inside if I was the cause of his demise. The very thought of that made me want to move to another zip code.

Zayne lifted a hand, running his fingers through the ends of my hair as his gaze tracked over my features. He tilted his head and before I could figure out what he was doing, he pressed his lips to my neck, against my wildly beating pulse.

My senses became hyperaware as his firm lips traced a hot, tiny path to the sensitive spot beneath my ear. My brain whirled as everything registered. I felt his hair tickling me under my chin, the softness of his lips and the tiny flick of his tongue, as if he were tasting my skin. I recognized the sudden tension in my body, the liquid heat and the force of the emotion swelling in my chest. But there was more, there was that foreign quality again. When he curved his hand around the nape of my neck, under my hair, it only grew stronger. There was amasculineedge to it.

As understanding seeped in, I placed my hands on his face. He lifted his questioning gaze. I couldn’t figure out how, but I knew deep in my bones what was happening.

“Oh my God,” I whispered, trailing my fingers over his face. “I get it.”

His brows rose.

“I can feel you. I can feelyouremotions.”

19

That was obviously not what Zayne was expecting me to say. He stared at me with those luminous blue eyes, confusion playing across his handsome features.

Feeling his emotions sounded crazy, but it made sense.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

I pulled my hands back, curling my fingers back into my palms, and almost immediately, that virile need faded away. “I can feel what you’re feeling,” I repeated, stunned by the realization. “I don’t understand how and this isn’t the first time, but I just didn’t recognize what I was feeling before.”

---