Page 41 of Ugly Truths
“What are you doing?”
I don’t bother to answer her question as I turn back around. Her eyes sharpen, and the ember I thought had been snuffed out glows faintly behind her cautious demeanor.
That spark is my undoing.
My feet carry me toward her without permission, and she retreats at equal speed until her back meets the wall. There’s no missing the clenchof her fists or the way her chest stutters when she realizes there’s nowhere to run or hide.
There’s barely time to process her gasp as I haul her to me by her waist. She steadies herself on my bicep; her still calloused fingers against my skin feel like a live wire.
I lean into her until my nose is buried in her hair, inhaling that warm, sweet-scented shampoo she still uses, just as one hand curls to the damp strands. It wraps around me like a velvet tether, squeezing until it burns.
Using my hold, I tilt her head toward me as I pull back. The hair framing her face is more copper than I remember, but maybe it’s the way the afternoon light hits it.
The tips of her impossibly white teeth are visible in her open-mouthed shock, cheeks growing more crimson by the second. I drink in her weary eyes, streaked with golden hues that look like sunbursts.
Fuck. She’s so beautiful.
And alive.
My thumb brushes the delicate skin of her neck, landing on the hammering pulse point just under her ear. A frantic rhythm that makes me want to hold harder just to remind myself that she’s right here.
Elena swallows, her full lips closing and opening again as she searches for words, but nothing comes. Her stare is nothing short of terrified as she scans my face from top to bottom, looking for some clue or sign, but my thoughts are moving so quickly that I can’t pin one down. She’s overwhelmed every one of my senses except for taste.
My mouth waters at the thought.
I should stop; God knows I should. But only one thought cuts through the chaos still tearing through my head.
“I’m so fucking mad at you,” I rasp, and then crashmy mouth into hers.
Chapter 19
Silas
My insides detonate, the ache ripping through me before settling into a low hum that anchors itself in the center of my chest. Becausenothinghas ever felt so fucking right.
And it shouldn’t.
Elena freezes beneath me. For a moment, there’s nothing but the press of my mouth against hers and the rush of blood in my ears. I sink into the heat of her lips and the softness I’ve tried so hard to forget.
A breath shudders out of me—rough and unsteady—and that’s what breaks her stupor. Her fingers curl to the front of my shirt as she fuses our chests together.
Her tongue slides across my bottom lip in a hot, slow swipe, and I’m done for. I fall headfirst into the feeling I’ve been hating myself for needing ever since she left.
I shift to press my weight into her, pinning Elena against the wall and giving myself better leverage. The perfect height for me to devour, and strong enough to take it. But her body goes rigid again. The hand that was just pulling me forward is suddenly flat against my chest, feebly pushing me back.
The sting of hersudden rejection barely registers. I cinch my arms tighter, mapping out the space below her ear with my mouth when hers stops responding, teeth scraping lower against her neck.
Every inch of her tastes the same; the lingering mint toothpaste in her mouth to her clean, salty skin. I should hate her for it, because it shouldn’t be possible for something to hurt so deeply while still being the only thing that feels like home.
“Silas, we can't,” Elena breathes, voice shaking. “We can’t do this. You have a girlfriend.”
My lips still against the curve of her throat, her coconut scent leaving me disoriented.
Girlfriend—right. Alice.
A bitter chuckle escapes me. I should let her believe it and use it as a shield to keep the remaining hatred sharp, but all my fight is gone.
My words are half surrender, half confession. “There’s no one else, Elena.”
