Page 79 of Caution Tape

And I’m so hungry for him.

It terrifies me.

“Cora,” he breathes, brushing my bangs out of my eyes. “Talk to me.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Just say what’s on your mind.”

I rest my face on his bare chest and take in his warmth. “I… I think I care about you.” My words are doing that thing where they fail to capture what I mean.

His body tenses and his hand in my hair becomes still.

“I think I might want you,” I admit. “For… a while.” I did it again, pulling back and changing words at the last second, giving out a flattened, Diet Coke flavor of what I wanted to say.

“A while,” he echoes.

I rest my chin on his shoulder while searching his eyes. He appears calm… much calmer than I anticipated. He’s not throwing me off him. He’s not running in the other direction.

He’s not stabbing me.

That must be a good sign.

“Well?” I ask.

“Well, what?”

“Aren’t you going to say something?”

His jaw tightens. “I’m not good at finding the words.”

“Neither am I,” I agree. “But… I’m trying… because I want you, Nolan, and when I want something… I go for it. So, here I am, going for it.”

“You want me to tell you how I care about you,” he lets out. “How you’re the first thing I see when I open my eyes in the morning, and the last thing I see before I go to bed. How I think about you every second of every day and can’t get you out of my head no matter how hard I try.”

“I want the truth.”

He frames my face with his hands and kisses me softly. I breathe him in, my heart thumping hard in my chest.

“The truth,” he whispers against my lips, “is that you’re a threat. You’re burning down everything I had planned.” He slides upward and draws me against his chest, crushing me against him with both of his arms. His lips mumble against my forehead as he continues. “And yet, I’m still here. I’m still playing this game with you, and I don’t want to stop.”

His hands find my throat and I’m pulled back to eye level. Our legs intertwine, our thighs parting and embracing each other. Nolan closes his eyes and gently leans his forehead against mine. “You scare me.”

I stare at his closed eyelids as he kisses me again, passionately, dipping his tongue inside my mouth, tasting me eagerly.

“Nolan,” I moan, digging my fingertips into the back of his neck. “You scare me, too.”

“Run away with me.”

“Okay. When?”

“Baby steps, little monster.” He stands, lifting me into his arms. “For now, let’s wash off.”

He steps over Natalie’s lifeless body and the pool of blood on the floor. I find myself touching him as he walks us to the bathroom—a romantic gesture, and now a part of our routine after kills. He places me onto my feet in the shower and turns on the water.

There’s a pungent smell of blood that rises along with the steam, sweet and metallic. The water runs red as we stand beneath the stream of hot water. It feels amazing against my skin, soothing my sore arm and back muscles. I’m out of shape. Stabbing takes a lot of strength, that’s for sure.

I watch Nolan closely as he tilts back his head and shuts his eyes, beads of water dripping down his face steadily and soaking his hair. He runs his hands through the strands, his biceps flexing, and a muscle in his jaw twitches. He appears so deep in his thoughts. It’s like I’m not even here.

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