We Fall Like Ashes | Wildfire Series

Thirty-Four: Replay

I liked how it felt to put that trust in someone else and turn myself over.

For so long, my life was built around constant decisions. Every day, I fought within myself as I tried to figure out what to do—about school, work, lawsuits, money, grief.

But Beau was happy to direct. He was happy to let me sit back while he conducted moments. I didn't just mean in bed, either. He did it all the time, but it was so casual, so subtle that I never realized until I looked back. And it was such a goddamn relief to let him do that.

All I had to do was live instead of worrying about how to live. There was such a difference.

Take me away, Beau. I just want to live.

"Okay," he said, almost as though he could read my mind. His fingers tangled with mine as he lifted them between us, kissing the back of my hand. It was a lingering kiss, a slide of his lips against my skin, and his eyes danced above our knuckles, watching me. "I think that tells me what I needed to know." He paused. "One more thing before we go inside."

I waited, wondering what else there could possibly be.

"Birth control?" he questioned, dragging his lips over the back of my hand again, surveying my expression.

"I'm on it," I answered right away.

Beau nodded. "And I'm clean, Collins. But we can still use protection if you want."

A shake of my head. "No, I want...."

I wanted nothing between us.

Beau stared expectantly, making it clear he wanted the rest of my words, and I cleared my throat.

"Just you. I just want you."

A long pause floated between us, almost as though Beau was giving me the chance to change my mind. But I had no intention of doing that. So eventually, he nodded toward the house. "Let's head in."

When I followed Beau into the apartment, I didn't push him up against the door like last night, and he didn't throw me onto the countertop. The mood had shifted. Desperation lingered just as heavily as it had twenty-four hours ago, but there wasn't a need to hurry. Rushing this moment would have been a sin.

"My room tonight," he said, keeping his voice to a hushed murmur even though we both knew Nessa was at Grayson's. Guiding me by my hips, Beau pushed me toward his bedroom door. Once inside, it closed with an audible click behind Beau, and the air stilled.

His room was its usual clean and tidy self. The bed, specifically, was made with such precision that I almost hated to mess it up. But after turning around to face Beau, I found him pulling his shirt over his head in the shadowed corner of the room, and I quickly changed my mind. His jeans rode low around his hips, slipping down as he walked toward me.

Damn. Shirtless Beau was definitely one of my favorite Beaus. And not for the first time, my eyes were drawn to the ink on his muscular abdomen.

"Tell me about the tattoo."

Beau glanced down, pausing about an arm's length away from me.

"The lines," he said, tracing a fingertip over the thick, black curves. "They're waves. Two waves in a big ocean."

"Why did you pick that?"

"Well, we do live in California, Collins." His words were playful, but his eyes evaded mine as he stepped closer. It wasn't hard to pick up that he was deflecting.

"If you don't want to tell me, it's—"

"I'll tell you." He cut me off with a soft kiss. "But it's gotta be another time when I'm not so fucking desperate to get inside you."