Skylar

You fall softly

like snow

mine

I am beneath you (I fall hard, like stone)

so I will catch you

on my tongue

You melt there like sadness

mine

I tied your hands (mine)

a vain, exquisite endeavor

to break you

mine

Shards of bone and soul

mine

littered the bedroom floor this morning

I stepped carefully around them

for fear of injury

mine

but you are brave, I think

You will gather them close

and try to smooth their jagged edges

mine

with the fearless, infinite grace

of your foolish heart

mine

Guess he wasn’t kidding about the sunrise.

I had the day off, so arising at dawn hadn’t exactly been my plan, but when I woke up and found myself alone in Sebastian’s bed, I missed him right away. Holy hell, last night had been amazing. From the blowjob in the car—I don’t even know what came over me, I’d never done that before—to the sex in his bedroom to the things he’d said…my mind was spinning. Jesus, had he really tied me up? Sebastian Pryce, who was so nervous about hurting people he kept his sharp knives hidden above the fridge, had actually tied my hands behind my back with rope?

Spying the rope on the floor, I brought the sheet up to my mouth and giggled silently. God. He was such a study in contradictions. But I loved that he felt comfortable enough with me to do it. I loved the things he said while he did it. I could still hear his low, intense voice in my mind.

Apologize… For breaking me down… The only thing I can do is make you mine.

Every second of it had been perfect. I’d meant what I said—I’d never apologize for wanting him—but I didn’t see it as breaking him. And as for being his… my stomach tightened at the thought. What did he mean by that? Like his his? The forever kind of his? Or was it just great sex? Maybe he was the kind of guy who said things in the dark he wouldn’t repeat in the light. I wanted to talk about it, but it would probably be like pulling teeth. Tugging the sheet from what were assuredly perfect hospital corners, I wrapped it around myself and managed to get down the ladder without slipping.

The smell of freshly made coffee filled my head as soon as I started to descend. I didn’t see him in the kitchen or living room, but I noticed the front door was open. Through the screen door I heard the morning song of the birds, and I remembered he liked to watch the sun rise from the front porch. I set the sheet aside and scooted into the bathroom, where I found a new toothbrush and washcloth laid out for me. God. He’s the sweetest hot-and-cold asshole ever. This could be really good between us…will he try? After using the bathroom, brushing my teeth and scrubbing off what was left of last night’s makeup, I poured two cups of coffee from the full pot, and waddled to the door, holding the sheet tight under my armpits.

“Hey,” I said through the screen. He’d been sitting there writing, and jumped at the sound of my voice. “Sorry, didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“No, it’s all right.” He quickly closed the notebook, stuck the pencil inside the spiral, and set it on the porch floor before standing. “I didn’t expect you up so early. Here, I’ll get the door.”

“Thanks,” I said. “Wow, it’s so beautiful out there.”

He opened the door and took the cups from me. “I like your outfit.”

“You’re not mad I pulled the sheet off the bed?” I stepped past him onto the porch and took one cup from his hand.

“Uh, no.” He let the screen door slap shut and brought his coffee to his lips. “I’m particular, but I’m not totally insane.” He paused. “Usually.”

Smiling, I swished over to the other rocker, sat down, and looked around. “So this is sunrise.”

Sebastian laughed. “This is sunrise. Ever seen one before?”

“Yes. But not after a night’s sleep. The bars close late in New York, as you know, so if I worked till close, sometimes the sun was coming up by the time I got off. But it didn’t look like this. Or sound like this or feel like this.” I inhaled, the scent of dark roast coffee mixing with the fresh, woodsy air. “Or smell like this.”

Nodding, he sat in the other chair, and I tried—I really tried—not to bombard him with personal questions right away. But there was just so much I wanted to know about him! Everything from What do you like to eat for breakfast to What do you write about in that notebook to What did you mean last night that you wanted to make me yours to Are you ready for another round?

But I didn’t want to spook him too soon, and anyway, it was nice just sitting here. I could get used to this.

Whoa. Whoa there.

Somewhere inside me, rational sense suddenly spoke up. You just spent your first night together, so don’t go getting all attached to him or this or anything else. He already told you he moved here to get away and doesn’t want a serious relationship, so don’t go thinking one night of great sex was going to change his mind about that. You are not a special snowflake. I lifted my cup to my lips.

“Hey. No frowning at sunrise.”

I sipped and smiled at him. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to. I was just thinking too hard.”

“Bout what?”

Inhale. Exhale. “About last night.”

A dark look crossed his face, and he looked out into the trees. “It was too much for you.”

“No! No, not at all. I liked it.”

“Did you?”

It was cool on the porch, but my body warmed. “I loved it, actually.” I dropped my eyes to my coffee. “I’ve never done that before.”

“Me either.”

I looked at him, surprised. “No? My God, you knew exactly what you were doing! You seemed so sure of yourself.”

“I know how to tie a good knot. And I’d certainly thought about doing it plenty of times.” He looked away from me for a second. “I’ve just never met anyone I felt comfortable enough to do it with.”

“Not even your fiancée?” I couldn’t resist.

“Especially not her.”

Oh my God, what did that mean? I was trying to work it out in my brain when he reached over and tugged on the sheet. “Hey. Stop analyzing. Last night was fun. Let’s leave it at that.”

What? Was he fucking kidding? I couldn’t leave it at fun! What about all the things we’d said? Didn’t they mean anything? “But—”

“No buts. Come here.”

A little frustrated, I got up, coffee and sheet and all, and went over to his chair, where he opened his arms and motioned for me to sit onto his lap. His chest was warm, and I leaned back against it, trying not to feel disappointed that he wasn’t going to tell me anything else.

And then the notebook at our feet caught my eye.

“Are you a writer too?” I ventured.

“No. Not really.”

“I noticed you have that notebook with you a lot.”

He hesitated. “It’s part of my therapy.”

“Oh.” I paused for a sip of coffee, wishing I could see his face. Could I keep asking or was I pushing it? “Like a journal?”

“Sort of.”

And that was it. We talked a little about the reunion and the job at the winery he wanted me to apply for, but nothing more personal. When our cups were empty, Sebastian offered to refill them, and I stood. He kissed my cheek. “You’re even prettier with no makeup on. Do you know that?”

I blushed. “Thank you. I appreciate the things you left out for me in the bathroom. You do that for all your dates?”

“Stop it. I’ve never had a woman here, Skylar. You’re the first.”

As I watched him go inside, the thought of another woman here with him struck me with a jealousy so fierce it knocked the wind out of my chest. Shit. I really liked him. I wanted this to be something. Why wouldn’t he talk to me? I looked down at the notebook again, the powerful urge to peek inside it overwhelming me.