Page 119 of On The Edge

Every time the thought crosses my mind, it’s like I can’t breathe. It’s like I’ve been force-fed oxygen through a ventilator for so long and now that I’m unhooked from it, I’m learning what real air tastes like and feels like for the first time.

“Cruz.” She reaches up and cups the side of my face, but I can’t look at her yet. I can’t let her see everything because that everything is terrifying to me. And it’s terrifying for reasons she clearly doesn’t understand. Not after watching her with her mother and father all day.

Her parents and her have an unspoken connection I’ve never experienced. They could complete each other’s sentences when sitting beside each other. They could look across the room and have a whole conversation without saying a word. There was an unwavering respect between them and a clear adoration.

It hit me several times—a pang—that I’ve never been a part of something like that—not even with my own parents . . .

“That has to be enough for you for now.” I brush my lips to hers. “To feel it. To think it. To get used to it. But I can’t ever promise what tomorrow brings. That’s not . . . me.”

But deep down, I know it’s not enough for her.

It shouldn’t be.

“You are enough,” she murmurs and lifts her head so our lips meet. “This is enough.”

“Maddix.”

“No. Don’t take the words back.” Another kiss. A coax of her lips. “Show me with actions.”

The kiss continues as we find each other in the moonlight.

It’s soft sips of lips and quiet sighs of bliss.

It’s the spread of her thighs and the murmured words of please.

It’s the feeling of her gripping me as I push into her and the scrape of her nails on my ass as she begs me to fill her as full as possible.

It’s the knowing each other’s bodies so well now that we react without asking. We know without guiding. We please without urging.

It’s making love when we can’t utter the words.

When I can’t utter the words.

When I use the actions to tell her I’ve fallen in love with her. Because she’ll never hear the words.

I’ll send her away before she can do the same to me.

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

Maddix

Sleep eludes me, the jet lag fierce.

My heart is full from having him here with my family. In my space. In my home. But truth be told, I wondered if it would be weird coming back home. So much has changed about me over the past few months that I wasn’t sure how I’d feel. I’m comfortable. I’m happy.

But I also know this town is too small for me now.

I was given the chance to spread my wings and moving back here permanently would be like clipping them.

But it’s more than that. It’s the unknown about the man breathing steadily beside me. I study him. The rise and fall of his bare chest. The line of his jaw. The curl of his lashes. His dark hair falling over his forehead. The fact that he’s in my bed, surrounded by my things that makes him so very real.

It’s the words my dad said earlier.

It’s the ones Cruz couldn’t say.

And it’s the ones that his sister said.

Find the Cross behind the Cruz. He’s the good man. He’s the one he hides from the world. When you see him, you’ll know the man I love. The one I’m proud to call my brother.