Page 27 of Lillith
“You always gotta ruin the mood?” she asked. His gaze dropped to take in her body, and lingered longer than it should have, making her feel way too hot.
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “I do.” Something in her chest tightened because that wasn’t him being difficult. It was him being honest. And for some reason, that hit harder.
“I’ll make us some breakfast before we head into town,” he offered. He got out of bed and pulled on his boxers. God, he made her mouth water.
“I’ll take a quick shower and be down in a few minutes,” she said, not sure that he heard her. Tank was already out the door and heading down the hallway as though he didn’t care what she planned to do next. His walls were back in place, and that just plain pissed her off.
“Two can play at this game, Tank,” she whispered to herself. If he wasn’t going to play nicely, then she wouldn’t either. One thing Lillith had learned about herself over the years was that she could give as good as she got.
The tension was back. It was the kind that sat low and simmered in her tummy. She hated that feeling because it made everything feel bigger than it actually was. Every time Tank looked at her, she thought that she’d burst into flames. When he handed her the plate of eggs and bacon he had made her, brushing her hand with his own, she nearly swooned, and she didn’t fucking swoon over any man. What was it about this man that made her want things she never did before? He made her feel more than she wanted to feel, and that was dangerous. Even more dangerous than the men who were after them.
Lillith leaned against the counter, watching him like she had nothing better to do as he finished making the toast. Honestly, she didn’t have anything better to do. They ate in complete silence, and when they finished, Tank stood up and took her dishes.
“I can do those,” she offered.
“No need,” he insisted. They were the first words that he had said to her since he left the bedroom earlier. She watched Tank as he stood at the sink with his sleeves pushed up, washing a plate like it had personally offended him.
“You know,” she said casually, “for someone who doesn’t stay anywhere, you’re awfully comfortable playing house.” His shoulders stilled for half a second, but then kept moving.
“That’s not what this is,” he breathed.
“Sure looks like it,” she pushed.
“It’s not,” he insisted.
She smiled slightly. “You keep saying that.” He slowly turned to face her, but she didn’t back down. She liked to say that her tenacity was her best and worst quality.
“And you keep pushing,” he said.
“Maybe I like what I find when I do,” she shot back. It was the only way to tear down his walls, so she’d keep pushing him for as long as it took.
Tank dried his hands slowly, tossing the towel aside like he needed something to do with them. “Lillith?—”
“What?” she cut in, stepping closer. “You’re going to tell me again how this is a bad idea? How I deserve better? How you’re not the guy for me?” His jaw tightened, and she knew that she hit a nerve. “Because you’ve said all that already,” she continued. “And yet, here we are.”
She was close now, but neither of them moved. Neither of them stepped back. “Why do you keep trying?” he asked quietly.
Lillith tilted her head. “You really want to ask me that?”
“Yeah,” he said. “I do.”
Her expression softened just a fraction. “Because I don’t run from things that matter,” she said.
Tank looked away first. “And what happens when being with me gets you hurt?” he asked. “Or worse.”
Lillith stepped closer, closing that last inch of space between them. “What if my being with you doesn’t end up getting me hurt or killed? What if being together makes us both happy?” she asked. It was a loaded question, but she didn’t care.
Something seemed to snap inside of him. Tank’s hand came up, gripping her hip like he couldn’t stop himself anymore, pulling her into him—hard and fast, like he’d been holding back and finally lost the fight.
“Jesus,” he muttered against her mouth before kissing her again. But this time, there was nothing hesitant about it. There was nothing careful about the kiss, and Tank didn’t hold back. Lillith melted into him instantly, her hands sliding up his chest, gripping him like she needed him to anchor her just as much as he seemed to need her. Because somewhere between running and staying, they’d both already made their choice. They just hadn’t said it out loud yet, and that might cost them each something, but she could feel it. Her mind was made up. She wanted Tank, and there was no stopping her from taking what she wanted now that his walls were down.
Four more days had passed, and the walls felt as though they were starting to close in. It wasn’t in a dramatic horror movie kind of way. It was just quiet—too quiet. There was no noise, people, or distractions, and it was starting to make her skincrawl. It was just her and Tank and everything that they weren’t saying.
Every night, he took her to bed and made love to her like he was a starving man. Every morning, she woke up hoping to go into town to get a phone to call Ember, and every morning, Tank woke up with an excuse as to why they couldn’t make the trip. Lillith stood at the small window, staring out at nothing but trees and more trees, her arms crossed as she bounced slightly on her heels.
“I’m going to lose my mind out here,” she muttered to herself. Behind her, Tank didn’t look up from whatever he was doing with the truck keys.
“You’re safe out here, and that’s all that matters,” he said.
