Page 76 of Bake the Town Red

There are emotions. Colors. Notions.

She’s a part of me. The limb I’ve been missing. The only thing I want to see for the rest of my days.

Air, she’s fucking air. For the past four years, each breath was a step closer to death.

With her squeezing every last drop from my cock, I feelalive.

I’m delirious with it. With the need to live. To spend million mornings and endless nights next to her.

My Dahlia.

I watch her closely. Marvel at how undead she is.

Blue vibrant eyes. The most unhinged gaze I’ve ever seen. Thick blonde hair that frames her cheeks. Parted, seductive lips and those fangs she flashes me.

She’s not just Dahlia. She’s my everything.

“Beautiful.”

Her wrists aren’t in my grip anymore. My hands cup her cheeks. My thumbs rub her temples in slow, methodical circles.

And I curse. Curse myself and the dread that pools in my stomach.

What if this is all temporary? A ruse?

She and I had three years of bliss. I got to take care of her and my grandma. We’d watch movies together on the weekends. She’d tell me the plans she had for her bakery. The crazy cupcakes she’d sell there.

Spiders. She had a couple of them as pets. My grandma thought it was adorable. I was convinced to pat one. No, it wasn’t that bad.

Nothing was ever bad when she smiled.

Like she does now.

It didn’t last.

That goddamn voice. That motherfucking, insufferable voice.

I slam my eyes shut, willing away the thousand ways she could die.

This can’t be happening. This can’t—

What if I just up and left? Dahlia would understand. She’ll be okay. I told her I wouldn’t stay.

One time doesn’t count.

It doesn’t. Do you hear me, universe? Don’t you dare touch her.

“Tyler. Please. I’m okay. I’m here. Stay.”

Sometime after I came inside Dahlia, I lowered my body to hers. Put all my weight on her.

Her hands mirror my hold on her, each of them pressed to my cheeks. Her fingers study me. Tracing the shape of my jaw. Going lower to the pulse point on my neck. Her little smile widens.

Must be the strong rush of my blood beneath her fingers.

Of course it is. We’re too much alike for it not to be. And the only reason I’ve survived this long is her beating heart.

“We don’t have to say anything.” She tightens her grip. Begging. Threatening. “No promises. Nothing. You could just stay.”

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