Page 50 of Star-Crossed
Together, they walked through the dense forest, illuminated by the silver moonlight filtering through the trees. The scent of damp earth and pine filled the air as they moved deeper into the woods. Finally, they reached their destination: a hidden hot spring nestled within a granite grotto on Kiki’s property.
“Wow,” Lyra breathed, her eyes widening. Steam formed an ethereal mist that drifted lazily through the air, obscuring the moon’s glow on waters that were a deep emerald by daylight. Above them, the sky stretched out like a vast canvas, the stars winking among the clouds in the Pacific Northwest night.
“Who even knew this was here?” she marveled, her tension visibly melting away as she took in their surroundings.
“My dad showed it to me and Kiki when we were kids,” Cy explained, pride swelling in his chest. “I used to sneak out here after our chores were done.”
Lyra stepped closer to the edge of the water, dipping her fingers in and issuing a contented sigh at the warmth. She looked back at Cy, her eyes shining.
“This is amazing,” she said softly, the hint of a smile playing on her lips.
“Glad you think so,” Cy replied, indecently pleased with the sight of her delight. “The water’s magic, you know.”
As predicted, her smooth brow accordioned at the center. “Magic?”
“Yep,” he said. “Guaranteed to rinse away any and all stress from unexpected cat parenthood and/or suspicious septuagenarians.”
Lyra crossed her arms across her breasts. “Is that so?”
“Nope,” Cy said, reaching into his pocket to drop his keys onto a rock. “But I can give you some pretty impressive statistics about hydrotherapy if you need a compelling reason to get naked beneath a full moon.”
Though he couldn’t see it, Cy could practically hear Lyra’s swallow. “Naked?”
Reaching for the hem of his thermal, Cy hauled it over his head. “We’re miles from anyone else.”
“All right,” she finally agreed, a mischievous smile spreading across her face. “But no peeking.”
Cy raised his hand in a mock salute as he turned away to give her some privacy, glad to have some of his own.
He had to tell her.
He’d known this moment would come. Or rather, he’d hoped it would, which was a strange thing to realize after so many years of concealing this particular part of the accident’s aftermath.
He’d certainly given it a lot of thought, but none of the scenarios he’d rehearsed in his head seemed to have a single thing in common with the present moment. The talking points he’d planned felt as flat and dead as the sole of his boot. He needed to work up to this. Carefully and thoughtfully prepare her. To find the exact right way to—
“I have a prosthetic.”
Well, shit.
Nowhere in his vivid fantasies of this very moment had those words left his lips. And now, here they were, solid as the rocks surrounding the steaming water and just as capable of dragging him to the bottom.
Lyra turned to face him. “I know.”
Cy blinked at her.
He’d already begun steeling himself against the regular carousel of reactions he typically received from people when they fielded this information.
And field it they did. Then catch it and quickly grind it in hopes of stubbing out the sting.
“Who told you?” he asked.
“No one.” She pulled off her sweater in the headlights’ golden glow. “I saw your ankle when you were picking up Larry’s box earlier.”
Only when he realized that he could taste the night air did Cy realize his mouth was open.
She’dseenit?
But she hadn’t acted any different. Hadn’t missed a single beat. Hadn’t dropped any hints that would allow him to bring it up while still saving face. Or whatever it was he’d been saving.
