Page 56 of Ugly Truths
Swallowing my anxiety, I roll onto my side to look at him. He’s on his back, eyes closed, the arm closest to me tucked behind his head, exposingthe strong curve where his shoulder meets his chest. His lips are slightly parted, his breathing even but not quite deep enough to be asleep.
Quit being a baby and just do it.
My movements are jerky, nerves getting the best of me as I close the space between us. The mattress dips under my weight, Silas stiffens, and I freeze. Doubt creeps in, whispering that I’ve overstepped, that I shouldn’t have assumed I could justbehere like this. For a split second, I consider retreating, but the louder voice in my mind tells me to forge ahead.
I settle my head against the curve of his shoulder and tilt my chin down so he can’t see my embarrassment. Only when I press my palm flat against his chest does he finally exhale a long, slow breath that sounds like it reaches his bones.
A beat passes, then another. Slowly, his head dips, nose brushing through my hair. The warmth of his lips follows, lingering there. Fingers shift over mine, his palm covering the back of my hand, pressing it more firmly against his chest. The steady thrum beneath my touch makes my own heart hum in response, hot and relieved.
I shift, hooking my top leg over his hip, closing any space between us. His body adjusts to mine, molding me into the contours of his frame.
For a long time, I let myself feel the rise and fall of his chest and the scent of cedarwood, strong by his collarbone. The relentless tingling under my skin lessens, and the usual rush of blood through my veins slows to a calm flow.
This must be what home feels like.
The darkness, the quiet, and his not pulling away embolden me to break the silence. “Do you have questions?” I whisper on a breath.
Silas doesn’t ask what I mean. I know Davey filled him in on most of it, but there are things I didn’t tell him or Natalie that had nothing to do with contracts or Peter. I’m referring to things that would only matter to Silas. Tous.
His fingers shift against mine, sliding between the spaces and curling the pads into my palm.A quiet pause.
“Yes and no.”
That’s more than a fair answer, and I have no right to expect anything more, but I’m not above begging if that’s what it takes to drag every last truth into the light, so he can see exactly who I am.
My eyes adjust to the dim light filtering through the sheer curtains drawn over the windows. Soft shadows cast faint lines over the sharp cut of his jaw and the tension there.
Carefully, I squeeze his hand. “Ask me anything,” I murmur. “Please.”
Silas casts a glance down at me, but his chin stays tipped toward the ceiling. He looks back up and takes his time finding the words.
“Did you sleep with me to manipulate me?”
The ache in his words settles deep in my chest, but I don’t look away.
Instead, I extract my hand from his, reaching toward his jaw. Slowly, hesitantly, I run my fingers along its stubbled edge, coaxing him to look at me. It takes three passes before he concedes, allowing my fingertips to guide his face lower, our mouths only an inch or so apart. A dark curl slips loose, falling over his forehead from the shift in angle.
I drink him—memorizing every sharp line and soft edge, the high cut of his cheekbones, his freckles, the small lines that linger at the corners of his mouth. Even as exhaustion weighs on him, he’s so painfully beautiful.
“I never intended to sleep with you.” The words come easily because they’re the truth. “I had a hard line to never sleep with the subject of my contracts. It was the one thing Peter couldn’t convince me to do.”
His jaw flexes under my fingers, eyes dragging over my face and lingering on my mouth. “Butsomeonechipped away at my defenses,” I continue before pressing the lightest of kisses to the corner of his lips. “I slept with you only because I wanted to.”
He breathes out through his nose, the sound uneven. “Did you sleep with anyone else during that time?”
The question sends a jolt through me. “No.” The speed of my answer causes Silas's eyes to narrow. “There were opportunities, sure, but I didn't take any of them. They didn’t interest me. Especially after we met.”
Almost as the words are out of my mouth, it strikes me that Silas might not be ready for monogamy. We didn’t discuss it today, though we definitely should have. Why would I ever think we’d just fall back into what we had before? How could I expect that of him when he’s taking this gamble on me now?
I swallow hard. “I… when I’m with someone, I’m with them completely.” I search for the right words. “If you’re not on the same page, I’ll figure out how to be okay with that.”
The force of his stare is so tangible, it's as if his hands are on me, holding me still.
“I don’t share, Elena.” Each word is a final stroke on an unwavering stance. “It goes both ways.”
I nod, the assertion reverberating through me like a series of rolling waves, each one escalating the relief that spreads across my skin.
There’s a brief pause before his next question. “Did you feel guilty at all?”
