The Start of Time

Chapter 55

Every inch of him is wrapped around me, his arm cradling my neck, wrapping down my chest. The other slung over me intertwining our fingers, his entire body bending to mold around my every curve.

His soft breath blowing against my jawline with every exhale as he sleeps soundly behind me, taking comfort in our bodies being connected once again.

How could two people who are complete chaos and absolutely wrong for each other feel so right? How can two people who will never be meant to be together fit so perfectly?

Not that I didn't miss him inside of me, our naked bodies attached rather than a mere emotional tether, but I missed how even when he's angry, he still takes care of me.

Complex morning questions merge into the feeling that this is going to turn into a walk of shame.

Not shame because of our wild sexual escapades. Shame because I knew better in the first place. Shame because I've given into the one thing that can ruin me. Shame because I still love him, yet we can't be together.

I slowly pull my fingers from his, trying my hardest to gently climb out of bed without him noticing.

"No," he grunts, pulling me by my waist somehow even closer to him than before.

"But I—." His grip around me tightens as I roll over towards him, his chin resting in the crook of my neck, nuzzling my hair out of the way.

I settle back down, molding into him, feeling how his warm skin presses against mine as his fingers trail up and down my back. If we're going to have to face this once again, there's no point in fighting him when he's still half asleep. I may as well enjoy this last fleeting moment, memorizing the way it feels when he holds me close, nearly drifting off to sleep again in the bliss of his touch.

But sooner or later we have to get up. We've got a full day ahead of us from answering all the messages we've ignored to explaining just how badly I fucked this up. I don't think we can casually act our way out of this one.

We left the same place, and I never went back home. My car is still here, yet I'm nowhere to be seen. And I'm pretty sure I vaguely remember hearing the door open sometime late last night.

It doesn't take a mastermind to figure out what happened, and the amount of time it takes for word to get around between our tight knit group of friends is merely seconds, which at times I am grateful for.

But not today.

Today, I wish they were clueless and gave zero shits about how I feel because explaining that I had a moment of weakness is never fun for a strong, independent woman.

The lukewarm water hits me as a cold splash of reality, reminding me that the heat from last night was only a huge mistake. We were merely drowning out all of our feelings with sex, thinking it could fix the problem.

And it did.

Temporarily.

When Declan steps into the shower, I half expect him to kiss my shoulder or pull against his chest. He takes a small step forward, hesitating before grabbing the soap just behind my right shoulder. He's seen me naked so many times before, but here and now, with all of our emotions and mistakes on display, I feel completely exposed, my brokenness reflected in his eyes.

My thoughts run back over the first time we ever showered together, how he caught me singing and left me forever humming since then. His soft lips ticking my neck as he peppers me with kisses. The dark, aroused look in his eyes just as beautiful as the sparkling adoration. Wet bodies writhing and moaning, falling apart under each other's touch. Teasing and touching and exploring what we now owned. What we thought we would own forever.