Page 96 of Dreadful

When he finally follows me over the edge, his body tenses and surges, a groan ripping out of him that I feel more than hear, and then he collapses next to me, one heavy arm flung across my waist.

My limbs might as well be jelly, because those orgasms turned every bone in my body to liquid.

We stay like that for a long time, just looking at one another.

A giddy smile tugs at my mouth as I lean forward, cupping his jaw with my hand to press a soft kiss to his lips. “That was incredible.”

He lets out a rough laugh, shaking his head. “No, Bell.” He tucks a wild strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers sliding into the tangles as he drops a soft kiss to my lips. “You’re incredible.”

We lie there for a moment, nose to nose, the quiet settling around us like a blanket. Water drips off the daybed onto the patio in a slow irregular tap.

He clears his throat, a hint of amusement in his tone. “You know, I could really go for a milkshake right about now.”

I blink, the words hitting me with the force of a memory. It’s a ghost of a conversation from when we were younger, back when everything was still possible.

I let out a surprised laugh, melting against him.

“I love you.” The words tumble out before I make a conscious decision to let them free. It’s entirely impulsive, a confession that’s almost forcefully pulled from my very soul.

I fold my lips inward when I feel him still. His fingers stop their patterns on my skin, and he shakes his head slowly.

My heart sinks, and for a second, I regret saying it. Not because it’s not true—but I don’t want to rush anything. I don’t want to scare him off.

“About fucking time, Bell,” he says with that infuriating and charming smile.

“What?” I breathe out, my heart hammering.

He reaches out and cups the side of my throat. His thumb presses into the soft skin below my jaw, and he tilts my chin up until our faces are a breath apart.

The air between us feels charged, like the moment before a match catches.

“I’ve been waiting a long time for you to come back to me,” he says, his voice low and steady. “But you’ve done it now. Those three words? They sealed your fate.” He pauses, a flicker of intensity peeking at me from behind his gaze. “I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember. And I tried to stop. Fuck,” he says with a self-deprecating chuckle and a small shake of his head. “I tried, Bell. But it’s you for me, yeah?”

The heat starts in my chest and rolls outward, down my arms to my fingertips, through my belly to my knees. It winds between my ribs like ribbon, curls around my organs, folds itself layer after layer around that soft, squishy part of me that once dreamed and hoped and then went quiet for years.

It’s too big—too much. I don’t know what to do with it. Tears blur the sharp lines of his face, and I press my lips to his.

“Okay, deal,” I breathe, pressing my forehead to his. “Now about that strawberry milkshake.”

His laughter fills all the little nooks and crannies and cracks inside of me. And I think, not for the first time in my life, how fucking easy it is to love Gage Calloway.

And his brothers.

THIRTY-ONE

The night vision goggles pinch the bridge of my nose and press into the tender bone around my eye.

I adjust the strap again and lean closer to the window.

It doesn’t help.

A necessary purchase after Corrine’s house was plunged into darkness several days ago. I lost forty-two minutes and thirteen seconds in the dark.

I don’t intend to make that mistake again.

The daybed sits too far into the corner of the yard, partially obscured by the landscaping and the angle of Corrine’s house. I can see the wild one clearly enough when he moves, but the girl keeps disappearing behind him.

My fingers tighten around the goggles.