Page 56 of Beneath the Surface

Finally, he breaks away, his eyes roaming over my face, the weight of his body pressing on mine the only thing tethering me to the ground.

“I’m going to say something, and I need you to listen to me.” His palm runs down my hair again, and I lean into his touch. His other hand grips my chin, his thumb pressing into my bottom lip. “Being with you is what I like. However you need. However you want. Getting you off getsmeoff. Feeling you... learning all the different parts of you—” He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “It’s a fucking gift. I’ll be whatever you need me to be.”

My chest spasms, stomach warming. Emotion swirls in the center of my gut like fog, unfurling through my body, filling up the empty space. My hand lifts, fingers scratching against his stubble. “And who gets to be whatyouneed?”

His eyes flash with heat, his lips turning up in the corner. His hand moves from my chin, skimming up my cheek and wrapping around the back of my neck. Leaning in, his nose brushes against mine, the moment thick with a tender energy.

“You’re the only thing I need, little bird.”

He says it like a promise, and he seals it with a kiss.

27

Lily

Moving from table to table hurts—the most delicious type of throb—the kind that reminds me of who it was that put the ache there in the first place. It’s been three days since that night with Alex, and still, my body pulls and pinches, the whisper of his touch in every twinge.

I would be lying if I said I didn’t love it.

Somewhere along the way, despite my intention tonotlet it happen, I got attached. It happened before the sex, stupidly letting myself sink into the comfort of seeing him in the mornings, and again when I got off work at night.

Now that things have gone back to “normal,” I’m not quite sure what to do with myself. He comes into the diner most days, sitting in his signature corner booth, a notepad or his worn copy ofThe Art of Warin his ring-covered hands. The ones that glide over my body and leave imprints on my skin.

But today he wasn’t here, and I’m lost in the worry that creeps through my psyche, wondering where he is and what he’s doing.If he’ll be back.

“Lily.”

I jump at the sound of my manager’s voice, spilling a bit of the salt that I’m pouring into the shaker. My hand shoots to my chest. “Jesus, Johnny, you scared me.”

He grins. “You’ve been a little out of it today. You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” I wave him off. “Today was busier than usual, right?”

“Yeah, I don’t know what was up with that, but I’m fucking tired as hell.”

I nod in agreement, scooping up the salt, the grains tickling the palm of my hand.

“Listen, you still got the keys to lock up?” Johnny asks, scratching at the hair behind his head.

I lift a brow. “Yeah, why? You leaving?”

He smiles, his hand gripping the back of his neck as he glances at the floor. “Yeah, I’ve got some places to be if you’re alright with closing.”

I bob my head even though the idea of being alone makes me uneasy. But Johnny is notorious for pawning off his duties to whichever server is the closer, and I’m a big girl. I’m no stranger to things that go bump in the night.

It’s twenty minutes later when I finally finish, grabbing the drawer from the cash register and locking it up in the safe for Johnny to balance in the morning. Closing the office door, I walk through the kitchen, making my way to the back exit. I’m almost there when I feel it.

The heat at my back.

I spin around, my eyes straining through the dark, but there’s nothing there other than the sudden chill running through me. Turning toward the door, I start to move again when I hear another noise, my heart kicking up a notch in my chest, adrenaline pumping through my veins.

Fucking Johnny, leaving me here alone.

My fight-or-flight response kicks in, the deepest recesses of my mind gaping wide like an open wound, pouring fear into my veins. Visions of who it could be run through my mind until suddenly, I’m absolutely fucking terrified that it’shim. That somehow, despite me disappearing four years ago, despite me never reaching out to anyone from my past; he’s found me.

And if he’s found me, he’s foundChase.

Pure and icy dread freezes me in place, my worst nightmares playing out like a preview in my head. But as soon as I feel a body press against my back, my muscles ease, breath bursting from my lungs in relief because I know it isn’t him.

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