Page 84 of Striking Range

That little bottle of rage that I tried to take with me yesterday, after Ash laid me out, would be very convenient right now.

I have a lot of decisions to make, and several fears to overcome. But how will I do it?

Is it possible to make myself that much stronger?

As the sunlight begins to bleed into the living room, another impossible thing becomes apparent to me: I have awoken before Skylar.

He lies on my chest, his curls spread over my bare skin and his soft exhales hitting my collarbones. His lashes are so thick, spanning the tops of his cheekbones as he dreams peacefully.

To be fair, he expended a lot of energy last night. I can’t expect him to be up and at it so early after making him come that hard, more than once.

Plus, it’s nice to watch him. As if I’m in a limbo, an in-between moment where I’m free from consequence, and I can just exist. With him. I can admire his beauty and not be discovered for it.

But my moment passes as all moments do, and Skylar sighs heavily, his eyes blinking wearily against the morning sun.

“Good morning,” I murmur into his hair, my arms instinctively wrapping tighter around his waist.

What if, in the light of this new day, he runs?

Blue eyes clash with mine, and a soft flush coats Skylar’s cheeks. “Morning.”

He does not run. No, he tilts his head and shoves his face into the crook of my neck, breathing me in.

Goosebumps rise, scattering across my skin as his hair tickles my chin and his feet rub against mine. We are connected at so many points, our flesh mingling. I… I never want this to end.

At the cost of everything I own and everyone who loves me, I cannot lose this.

What a truly terrifying realization.

“So, it wasn’t a dream?” Skylar asks, his words soaking into my skin.

“I hope not.”

He laughs, a small and breathless thing. “Uh, me too. It was fun.”

Fun. Yeah, sure, that covers it.

“Fun?” I repeat. “I was thinking it was more like earthshattering or soul-stealing.”

“You’re so annoying,” he groans, shifting until he’s sitting on my lap, staring down at me. “It can be whatever you want it to be, as long as it happens again.”

He’s giving me a pointed glare, but I can see the blush beneath it. His words waver slightly, as if he’s embarrassed. As if he’s afraid of asking for too much.

“Whatever you want, Sky.”

Skylar grins, splaying his hands over my chest.

He looks like an angel in this moment—all glowy skin and bright eyes. I want to douse him in my scent, to mark him, to keep him locked away inside of this apartment so that only I have access to him.

It appears that my nasty alter ego is growing, twisting into something greedy and desperate. Once I figure out how to keep Skylar and keep peace with my family, I’ll need to sort out getting rid of this possessiveness.

“Should we eat breakfast?” Skylar asks.

“Sure. Will you make French toast?”

“For a kiss, I will.”

I freeze, my hands hanging in the air as my attempt to sit up is foiled. Skylar is unblinking, lips slightly parted as he waits, silence hanging between us like a violent warning sign.