“But I kept coming back. Kept pushing you.”
“But I fell in love with you. And even more than that … you and I, we’re connected. I can feel it, like our fates are tied together.”
That’s it exactly. From the moment we met, I’d felt like there was something that tied me to her. I couldn’t let go even when she told me to. I couldn’t give her up even when she disappeared for months on end. Because something deep in me, buried beneath tissue and muscle and bone, something told me that we belonged together. I clung to that, knowing that regardless of what was happening in that moment, somehow we’d be together in the end.
But I’d thought that was love. Faith, maybe. Stupid, blind stubbornness.
Not something more. Something supernatural.
“So when you left,” I begin, trying to piece everything together.
“I saw you singing in your kitchen. Writing music. You never told me you were a musician. The whole time we were together, I thought I could keep you safe because you weren’t in any way connected to my ability. I would burn up the energy with Lennox and Mick and—”
“Jack?” Shit. Oh shit. Am I crazy that this is actually making sense to me? That I believe her?
“Yes. Him, too. It was the only way I could spend time with you and keep you safe. I thought …” She laughs darkly. “I thought I had everything figured out. I thought I’d finally found a way to have a normal life. To have all the things I’d never been able to have … love, family, a home. A future. Then I saw you in your kitchen, and I knew I had only fooled myself into believing what I wanted to be true. I was just as dangerous to you as I had always been. And I’d been so incredibly selfish. So … I left. It was the only way I knew to guarantee your safety. If I hadn’t …” She looks down at my fingers curled around her hips, her body pressed against mine. “Well, I’m not very good at staying away from you.”
“Good.” It’s the first thing that comes to my mind, my gut reaction.
She shakes her head and starts to peel my hands away from her hips. I let her, but she’s not about to move away from me now. The only thing keeping me together, the only reason I’m not completely losing my mind right now is because I can touch her, feel her, know she’s real. My hands migrate to her neck instead, gently pulling her toward me. She doesn’t hesitate until her mouth is almost on mine.
“Wilder, don’t. Are you even listening to me? Spending time with me could ruin you. It’s not safe.”
I keep pulling her, until her mouth is a breath’s width from mine.
“Did you ever stop to think that maybe I started writing music again not because of any magical ability on your part, but because I love you? Is that not reason enough to be inspired?”
She exhales against my lips, and when her eyelids fall, they send a few tears down her cheeks.
I kiss her then, and she doesn’t fight me. Her body melts into mine, each soft curve tempting me to pull her closer, hold her harder, until the only thing I can feel or see or hear or smell or taste is her. I coax her mouth open, weaving my fingers through her wet hair, and let her become my everything.
It’s easy, really. To get lost in her.
Our clothes are cold and wet, but I can feel the hint of her hot skin beneath. I drag my fingers up her spine, introducing myself to her body again, trying to swallow all this new, strange information she’s given me.
A muse.
My brain conjures an image of marble. A lifeless portrayal of wavy hair, barely hidden breasts, holding an instrument maybe. Are there figures of her out there like that? Paintings? I know Jack painted her. And suddenly my mind is filled with hundreds upon hundreds of imagined paintings and photographs and sculptures. I think of all the eyes that have looked at her, hands that know the warmth of her skin, mouths that have kissed where I’m kissing now. She’s immortal.
I burn with the need to erase every single person who came before me. To know the shape of her body better than anyone has. To own more of her. To wrap her up in whatever it is that binds us together until she’s as helpless without me as I am with her.
I reach for the hem of her dress, pushing it up her thighs, and she stills.
“I heard you,” I say before she can protest again. “I know who you are. I know the risks.” I wait until her eyes are on mine before continuing, “But I don’t care. I have never been so scared in my entire life as I was when I saw all that blood tonight. When you left three months ago, I thought that was the hardest thing I’d ever faced. And I was absolutely miserable without you. But a part of me always knew you wouldn’t stay away forever. I believed that you would come back because we belong together. I couldn’t see any other future for myself but with you. But tonight … everything happened in slow motion. You were running from me, and you were so damn close. If I’d been a little faster, that guy never would have hit you. Or maybe I could have caught you. Or if I’d listened to my brain the first time I thought I saw you in that bar, maybe I wouldn’t have chased you outside in the first place. I thought of all the dozens of things I could have done differently. They flashed through my head faster than I could get to you. And I thought … Christ, Kalli. You were unconscious and bleeding, and I thought I’d lost you for good. Not for a few months. But permanently. If it’s addiction you’re worried about, too late. I already can’t live without you, but I swear it has nothing to do with music or energy or any of those things. And if you think I’m going to walk away because of all of this, you’re wrong. We’ll find a way to make it work. I’ll never play music again. You can hang out with fucking Jack as much as you need to. And if that’s still not enough, then we take our chances. I don’t give a fuck about genius. But I’ll take madness if it gives me you first.”
She starts to speak, but I cut her off again. I’m done letting her take all the responsibility on herself, letting her make all the decisions.
“There’s still blood on you. I can’t concentrate on anything else but how I almost lost you tonight when I see it. Let me wash it off. Then you can say whatever it is you have to say.”
After a moment, she nods.
“But just so we’re clear, it won’t change anything. I love you. Fuck everything else.”
She laughs under her breath. Or at least I think it’s a laugh. There are still tears in her eyes, and her lips are drawn in a tight line, so it’s hard to tell.