Page 6 of King of Ashes
“He can talk,” I mumble under my breath, strangling the napkin like I want to strangle him for causing this inner turmoil.
Rafe chuckles, and I lean over the table, ignoring Vian, just to let him feel how it is. “So, you don’t believe in the institution? In love? What exactly?”
“I don’t do love. I won’t marry or have children,” Rafe says vehemently, making me question the reason. His resolute tone brooks no argument, leaving me to believe his demons run deep.
I turn to Vian and tap my finger on the table, going for nonchalance. “What about you?”
He arches a brow. “Done ignoring me?”
“Look who is talking,” I bite out.
Rafe sweeps his gaze between us. “What’s the deal with you two?”
We stop talking altogether, staring ahead.
The silence stretching between us is so poignant, it maddens me. His scent and presence intoxicate me, playing with my senses until I am perfectly aware of his every inhale and exhale. This man possesses the uncanny ability to unsettle me.
“Want to dance?” Vian asks a few moments later, taking me by surprise.
I should say no. I want to say no. Instead, I nod, hoping to defuse the tension between us.
He stretches out his hand, and I stare at it for long seconds. It feels like a betrayal to my fiancé, but holding on drains me. There’s no hope, and without it, I am doomed.
Vian has a way of making me forget about everything, easing my first steps into moving on.
I place my hand in his, his larger one cradling mine. His eyes soften, and there’s a minimal shift in his face, but the warmth disappears as soon as it appears, making me question if I imagined the whole thing.
Usually, he’s surly and grumpy, or maybe he’s like that only with me.
On the dance floor, the silence hangs heavy, reminding me I am in his arms. It feels strangely intimate.
I place my hand on his chest, our bodies moving to the soulful music with an incredible familiarity, which only increases my confusion. The ring rolls on my finger, and he glances at the diamond catching the light, beaming between us.
“Nice ring,” he says, looking at it, enraptured. Physically, he is here; emotionally, he is somewhere I can’t reach him.
“Oh, it’s…”
“An engagement ring,” he says, touching it with reverence, electrifying me.
“I was engaged once,” I breathe out.
“What happened?” he asks quietly, as if the ghosts of my past could pop up and ruin the moment.
“He died.”
Our eyes lock, and everything else vanishes. It’s just him and me and whatever binds us that is beyond my understanding.
His Adam’s apple bobs, emotions thick in his deep voice. “You must have loved him.”
“I did. It’s been four years, and I can’t move on.”
Dancing with the man who affects me like no one else while clinging to the memory of another tears me apart. Yet it doesn’t feel like betrayal, as I initially thought. Whatever transpires between us has long been set in motion, making me feel like I am exactly where I should be.
“Have you been in love?” I whisper, something buried deep within me needing to know.
I can’t remember being so raw with anyone else, but he makes me feel safe, like he’ll guard all my secrets, cherish every confession. Treasure me.
I’ve lost my mind. There’s no other logical explanation.
