Page 50 of Folds
He must sense the tension that creeps into my shoulders.
“I was never overly concerned about you knowing.”
I glance up, my train of thought derailed slightly as I see an unexpected wisp of shadow curling near my neck.
“You were cold,” Rowan explains quickly.
Sure enough, as I watch, there seems to be a layer of darkness moving with the thin fabric of my hoodie as it blows in the wind, insulating me against the chill of the evening air.
“Thank you,” I press my lips together to keep laughter from bubbling up at the absurdity of the situation. The very notion that shadow can be tangible and given chivalrously, like an ethereal jacket, is inconceivable. I wonder what else he can do.
“Who was your concern?” It seems a safer question than where my mind is going.
“Me. I knew if you knew, and didn’t run, I’d be consumed with the thought of making you mine. Consequences be damned,” His hand squeezes mine softly as he draws in a deep, steadying breath before continuing.
“You can still run, Auburn.”
Now it’s my turn to shake my head.
“No, thank you.”
The outline of Hill House comes into view before either of us says another word. The pull in my chest sharpens the second I see it, but it doesn’t feel quite the same as before. The wrought iron gate appears mundane now, far less like a mocking symbol of my constant perceived failures since moving to Drayring. We slow as we reach the edge of the property, and I instinctively glance at Rowan.
“This is where you tell me to turn back, I’m guessing?” I study him closely, hoping he doesn’t.
His jaw flexes.
“If you were going to,” he says, “this would be the time.”
I look past him, into the dim stretch of the estate, my skin vibrates with the need to be beyond the gate, with him.
“What’s the worst thing that could happen?”
It’s mostly rhetorical, but Rowan tips his head back, like the star-flecked sky might have better answers.
“You need to understand something,” he finally says, his voice rough. “Once we go further, I won’t be able to keep this contained the same way I have been.”
My pulse quickens. The frantic, desperate kiss from earlier flashes into my mind.
“Is that what you’ve been doing?” I ask, the teasing evident in my tone.
His gaze flicks to me.
“Yes. In fact, I’ve been doing a tremendous job of holding back.”
The darkness at the edges of the path thickens, like a caged animal stalking toward the gate.
“That sounds exhausting.”
A quiet, strained sound leaves him.
“You have no idea.”
I turn away from the gate and face him straight on, lifting onto the balls of my feet to loop my arms around his neck and pull him closer to me. To his credit, he doesn’t hesitate for a moment. Strong arms wrap around my waist, allowing our bodies to meld together. I can feel his muscles tense as I press against him. It’s euphoric, and I let my mind wander back to the feeling of his tongue against mine, the insistent throb between my legs begging to be satisfied.
When I look up at him, meeting his gaze, I can see the desire burning hot in his eyes again. The tender possessive way he watches me is so familiar, all indicative of my strong-willed friend and the man I’ve known for the last year. Then shadow moves across his face, and the unanswered questions I have just add more academic desire to the existing carnal interest that’s kept me on edge for months. Regardless of everything, the way he looks at me still makes me feel giddy. More than that, it makes my knees weak.
“So what happens if you stop holding back?” His head is inclined now, his lips near enough that I could close the distance.
