Page 84 of Deeper

Rylan

Coffee. Doughnuts. Tail between my legs.

Check. Check. And check.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The nerves inside me rise as I pull my fist away from the door. My black shades hide my tired eyes. Getting a good night’s sleep wasn’t really an option. I tossed, plotted, turned, schemed, counted sheep, and relived my fight with Callen for the greater part of the night.

The door opens, and I lose memory of my words. I stand mutely, holding a box of doughnuts and hot coffee, without a bit of my pride.

“What are you doing here, Rylan?” Callen’s voice sounds exhausted, defeated.

I have a talent for desolating people.

“Can I come in? Please…”

He stands aside to allow me in but doesn’t speak. Awkwardly, I move past him and hold my breath as he shuts the door behind me. I place the food and beverages on the counter while keeping my back to the man who has unknowingly brought me back to life. I can’t apologize because I’m not sorry for the things we’ve done. There is not one bit of regret within me about what we did to that woman in the hotel room, so I can’t give him an apology, but I need Callen. I need him more than he could ever understand right now.

When Callen stormed out of that hotel room, it tore me apart. I never expected all of this to have a bigger meaning, but that moment made it clear. Callen is my bigger meaning to this whole mess. Everything I’ve been through has led me straight to him.

“What we’ve done…it’s a lot. I know that, Callen.”

“Rylan, don’t. I’m not ready to talk this out. I need time.”

“I get that; I do. And maybe it’s selfish, but I need to say my piece before this rift drags on between us.” I turn to face him and take off my sunglasses, allowing him to see my truth, my emotion. “I didn’t mean to push things too far. I need you. I need you for more than what we shared at the club. I need you for more than the blood on our hands. I need you for more than the sex games. I just need you.”

“I think we might be toxic together, Little Bird. Toxic to each other and to everyone around us.”

I go to him and take his hands in mine. My body embraces his warmth against my own. “With or without me, you’re going to keep being you. Right? You’re going to kill again? You’re going to finish this job?”

“You know I am, but…”

“No. I want to finish before you give me any buts. Please.”

He sits on the couch, and I join him, hating the cushion’s worth of space I leave between us.

“I should have communicated with you better. We should have communicated better. If we’re going to do things that destroy the limits of morality and break laws, then we should both be going into a situation on the same page. We’ve made mistakes, but for me, those mistakes aren’t the things we’ve done together. It’s how we went into them and how we handled the aftermath.”

“It isn’t that cut and dry,” he disagrees.

“Do you feel something for me? Beyond the physical and beyond the drama we’ve caused each other. Do you feel even an ounce of the pull that I do?”

“You know I do. Neither of us can deny that.”

I climb onto his lap, so my knees straddle his hips. My eyes connect with his. My hands grasp his face. With my lips a breath away from his, I can sense the war inside him. I swallow his indecision and hope to rid it from the room.

“No amount of chaos can keep us from the darkness that we thrive in. We are in this moment for a reason, and I don’t want to leave you just yet. It isn’t our time to part ways. We’ve only just begun.”

I lean forward through the unsettling emotions and the doubt and press my lips to his. These words, this kiss, are all I have. He doesn’t kiss me back, and I wonder if it’s enough.

I pepper kisses against his lips and whisper my pleas, “Don’t end this now.” Kiss. “Give us a chance.” Kiss. “I want you.” Kiss. “I need you.”

I need you in all of your glory—in all of our glory.

Moisture coats my kisses, and I realize it’s the tears I didn’t know were escaping from my eyes. I’m thankful his eyes are closed. I don’t want him to see me like this. I don’t want anyone to see me like this. My assaults on his mouth become more frantic, and I start to lose the hope and confidence I had about making this right. Maybe our connection isn’t as strong from his side. Maybe I pushed him too far, too fast, took too much of his control away. Maybe I’m here for the wrong reasons. Maybe—

His lips join mine.

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