Galilee Rising(94)

When the doors open onto the roof, a gust of wind knocks me back a little. I still walk out. The cold air is bracing, stinging against my exposed skin. I'm past caring. I take large buckets full as I pace around the roof. Tears stream from my eyes, and I swipe them away. I can't keep this up. We're going to end up saying or doing something that will truly be unforgivable. I'm losing it. We--

Out of the corner of my eye, I spy the stairwell door open. Jem steps out with his shirt open, revealing his costume and a pained expression matching my own. He was running away too. Flying away all alone until he could face the world. After a moment his gaze whips in my direction, the misery weighing down his long face all the way to the river thirty stories below.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, near tears. "I'm so sorry I said those things. I--"

I sprint toward him, stopping those words with a kiss. No hesitation this time. He kisses me with the same fervor. I always thought those women who claimed they almost swooned when they kissed a man were full of shit. Being overly dramatic. They're not. If he wasn't holding me and I him, I'm pretty sure I'd be on the ground. I could kiss this man until Armageddon. He breaks away, resting his forehead on mine and tracing circles on my cheeks with his thumbs. "This is hell," he whispers. "I'm so sorry."

"It was my plan. We knew what we were getting into. I just didn't think it would be so fucking hard." I put my hands over his. "I miss you so much. I hate this. I hate it. You don't deserve this. Hell, I don't even know if it's working. What if I'm ruining your life for nothing? It's a stupid plan. What--"

"Hey," he whispers before kissing me again. God, he tastes delicious. "Stop. Just stop. It will work. It will. And then he'll be gone. He'll never bother us again. He'll be gone."

"I can't go back to that house. I can't keep this up much longer, I can't. I feel him watching me, like he's right in the room. Waiting for me to slip up. Give it all away."

"Then don't. Go for a drive, get a hotel room. Go out on the boat. Take a break. After what just happened, it would make sense if you did."

"Makes sense you would too," I point out.

"I don't think that--"

I meet his eyes. "One night. Just one fucking night before the shit really hits the fan. God knows we've earned it. Hell, God knows I need it. We need it. We've never had a proper date."

He smiles. "You want to go on a date? Now?"

"We'd just have to be careful. I take the boat out, I text you the coordinates. I had Dobbs check The Athena. It's clean of bugs. And he really can't track you if you're flying around. So fly to me. One night. Who knows when we'll get another chance? Really." I pause. "One night, just one night where I'm just Joanna and you're just Jem, and there's nothing and no one in this world but us." I kiss him again. "Please."

It's a gamble in a lot of ways, but I don't care. Jordan could kill me tomorrow. We have such a small window, I sure as hell want to take advantage of it. He can give us just one night, damn it.

Jem kisses me this time. "I should go. You too."

He moves away and once again won't look at me. He turns around and starts shedding his clothes. "Jem?" I call to him. He turns back around. "We deserve happiness. We deserve each other. We've earned each other." I smile. "I'll be here. Waiting for you to realize that. Just try not to keep me waiting too long." My smile grows before I walk to the stairwell door. When the door closes, I let out a sigh. "Dear God, please let me win this one. Please?"

Guess I'll get my answer tonight.





CHAPTER EIGHTEEN




One Night



Jesus Christ, I'm more nervous about having sex now than I was when I lost my virginity a million years ago. The Athena only has a small bathroom so performing a full body beauty ritual proves difficult. Shaving, showering, dealing with my crazy hair, it takes forever. The one good thing about celibacy is you don't have to waste hours on this bullshit. I do look damn good though, and it gets me in the right mindset, which used to be the alcohol's job.

I can count on one hand how many men I've slept with sober. Even with Harry once or twice I was blotto. Hell, I barely remember the last time I had sex, except I hated every second of it. Two drunks in a seedy hotel fumbling around. I can't even call up his face from memory. I never did get his name. Sex was always just something that ended up happening, and in the end mattered very little to me. Just some fun. I'm too fucking nervous for this to be "just fun." A tiny part of me hopes he doesn't show. As time draws on, I fear I may get that wish. I texted him two hours ago with the coordinates but no text back and no Jem.