Page 49 of A Sip of Sin

“This is so weird,” said Hollen as he stirred from his slumber, his voice echoing in his own head but no further.

George quirked his lips as he tested the water again. It was perfect, the warmth tingling over his fingertips that had cooled in the air. When wet, his tattoos seemed to glow, coming alive beneath the droplets.

“Do you need help?” George couldn’t deny his own interest or his disappointment when Adair shook his head.

When Adair turned, George spotted two small scars on his back, so blatant against the tanned skin that they were startling. He couldn’t stop himself from reaching out and pressing afingertip to one of the lines. It was flat and healed pale. “What’s this?”

It was none of his goddamn business was what it was. He dropped his hand as Adair turned his face away, stepping into the shower.

“I’ve had some shitty boyfriends.”

Oh.George gritted his teeth, staring at the gap in the curtain. He’d terrified Adair, and he’d never stopped to consider that there was more to his past than sweet purity.

Jerking the curtain to the side, George followed Adair, crowding into his space until the hot water thudded against his back. He was soaked again in less than a second, the stream pounding into his muscles as the water pressure stuttered and strengthened.

“Did you want me to pulltheirteeth out?” asked George. “Now that I’ve had some practice, I’m sure I could do it even faster.”

Adair paled, even in the heat, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. “I don’t like talking about them.” He reached for the soap, avoiding eye contact.

That won’t do.“Don’t let it fester.” George leaned against the shower wall, giving Adair room if he so chose.

Adair scoffed, shaking his head. “I’m not taking advice from a—whatever it is that you are—when I would really rather just talk to my friend.” He poured the body wash onto a cloth, lathering it up. “Why are you even in here?”

Good question.George shrugged. “I’m a demon, but I haven’t always been this way—suffering through life and latching onto a host just to stay alive. There was a time when I could love, then the isolated purgatory afterward.” That ache in his chest panged again. George pressed a sodden hand to his forehead. “I can’t remember his name. Why the hell can’t I remember? I can’t recall the moment that it slipped away, either. He meanteverything to me for so long. I lost my sanity to him. If he passed me on the street today, I wouldn’t even be able to call out for him.”

He trailed off, the sound of the shower and his own breathing filling the space. Adair’s gaze was heavy, sweeping over his naked skin.

“Is this okay?” asked George, looking at his palms. They were etched with the same markings. For all of the writings and languages—some from a time where record keeping was through speech alone—not a single one carved his lover’s name. “I can leave if you want. Hollen and I could both use the rest.

“Stay.” Adair’s answer was almost drowned out by the shower. “Thank you for trying to help. You aren’t that different from Hollen, you know. He’s always trying to help people, even if it hurts him.”

“Can I?” George reached for him, placing a warm palm against an even warmer shoulder. Adair was slick with soap, bubbles floating against his skin.

“Hollen does all the time.” Adair shrugged. “I’m not sure it will be any different if you do it.”

It was different—breathtakingly so. George had been there—that little fly on the wall the last time Hollen had chatted to Adair while he waited for his turn in the shower, eventually abandoning his place on the stool to join him instead. The echoed sensations he’d received that day were nothing compared to doing it himself.

Adair seemed to notice, too. He stiffened, the flush on his cheeks stretching to his chest. His breathing grew heavy as George dragged the bubbles over his back and chest, staying strictly above the waist. Any lower, and he would be sorely tempted to do something that Adair might regret.

When the water started to cool, Adair shut the shower off, lingering as George grabbed for the single towel. Adair lethimself be wrapped in the rough linen, shivering as the air rapidly cooled.

“Let me take you to bed,” said George, securing the tie and ignoring the prickling of his own skin as the cold battered him.

Hollen stirred, thrusting himself almost to the forefront of George’s thoughts. “No way.”

George chuckled. “I can see how this is distracting.” He said it to himself, but Adair perked up, furrowing his forehead, so he decided to explain. “Hollen is quite adamant that nothing further happens between us.”

“Oh.” Adair moved shakily from the bathroom, sitting at the edge of his bed. The towel parted, showing a peek of his inner thigh. He was tanned, even there where the sun usually didn’t touch someone unless they spent hours on a beach somewhere. “I didn’t know you could hear him.” He rubbed his hand over his face, letting out a soft laugh as he shifted on the bed. “This is so weird.”

George reached for Adair’s hand, bringing it to his lips without touching. A kiss was too risky. It would mean something that he wasn’t willing to part with. That pathway was not meant to be trod upon. “I’ll keep you safe, and I’ll keep Hollen safe, too. Sleep well.”

Adair seemed to relax, the towel slipping a little more. “You’re different than I imagined.” He tilted his head, his eyes glowing. “Please never do that thing with the teeth again. The rest wasn’t so bad. A smile lit his lips. “What did Hollen say your name was?”

“He didn’t,” said George. He squeezed Adair’s hand, reveling in the smoothness of him and the heat blooming beneath his fingertips. It had been so long since he’d been able to touch someone like this, their body against his in its purest form. Every nerve was going haywire, his borrowed brain going at full speed. “When you’ve lived as long as I have, you tend to accumulatenames. Hollen calls me George. Many years before that I was Gorgo. I’m not sure which I prefer.”

Adair clutched at a blanket, drawing it over his lap. “I like Gorgo. It suits you.”

“Indeed it does.” George smiled, his lips curling over his teeth. He was given that name at the very base of himself when he was more darkness and madness than man.

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