Page 126 of I Was Always Yours (RCA: Royal Crown Academy)

Only once I've finished my hair and makeup do I finally slide the ring on my finger. It completes the look and the weight of it feels good on my hand, like it was always meant to be there.

When I walk out of the bathroom, Phoenix is waiting for me.

He’s sitting on the bench in my book nook, directly facing the bathroom door. He looks up when I come out and pauses.

His eyes darken in a way that makes me shiver to my bones in anticipation.

They’re wild.

They’re arrogant and dangerous.

He drags his eyes from my bare feet up my entire body, scrutinizing and appraising every inch of me with scorching eyes until they catch and pause on the ring adorning my left ring finger.

I don’t know how it’s possible, but his eyes blacken even further. They flick over to my face and pin me where I am as I wait for him to say or do something.

He extends a hand lazily towards me, beckoning for me to come to him. My feet pitter patter on the carpet as I make my way over, my heart lodged decidedly in my throat.

Once I’m in reach, I expect him to grip my waist, but he clasps my hand instead, rubbing his thumb on the stones of my ring.

“I like seeing this on you.” He declares, his eyes fixed on his fingers where they play with my ring.

Standing between his legs, I run my nails from the top of his head and down to his nape, eliciting a shuddering groan from his lips.

My hand cups the side of his face as he leans his head back against the wall and looks up at me.

“And I like seeing you here,” I admit, hoping he won’t make me regret my honesty. “Why did you really come find me?”

He clasps the back of my thigh with his other hand and runs his fingers seductively up and down my skin, his rhythm languorous.

“Unfinished business.” He whispers, his fingers continuing their exploration.

“And you came to finish it?”

He gives me a look of such depth that it disarms me. As always though, it remains inscrutable, his thoughts impossible to discern.

“Something like that.” He answers, enigmatically.

He dissects me with those eyes, cutting me open and taking a look at everything inside me, but I can’t tell if he likes what he sees.

“Don’t look at me like that.” I whisper, “I can never make out what you’re thinking.”

“I can tell you.”

Arousal swirls in my belly, potent as ever. I nod. He continues.

“I was just thinking that I know what I want.”

I frown, confused. “What do you mean?”

“My tenth birthday gift.” He clarifies, “I know what I want from you.”

My hand drops from his neck as unearthly stillness hits me. He continues to pick me apart with his gaze, tracing my face with his all too perceptive eyes and taking into account the way my mouth parts, my breath hitched, and my own eyes widen.

Heremembers.

I’d waited for years for him to appear and demand his gift. Even when he ignored me, part of me thought — and an even bigger part of me hoped — that he might find me one day and collect. When he never did, I assumed he’d forgotten. That, like the rest of our memories together, this one was simply a blip in time for him and not a defining moment of his life like it was for me.

Him acknowledging this promise from our childhood rocks me because it feels like more. Like he’s finally acknowledging, at least in some small way, who we once were to each other.

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