The Muse's Undoing

“You might want to tell her that.” He gestures in the direction of the dining room.

“I will.”

He makes a dismissive noise, and I say again, more firmly, “I will.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t.”

“What?”

“Maybe she’s more up your alley. Sometimes the obvious choice is the right one. The kind of future you want with Vaughn happens with someone like that. She’s obviously into you, and fuck knows you’re into her.”

Fear seizes my chest like a fist squeezing it to a pulp. “You can’t be serious.” We fucking talked about this.

“I don’t think you’re being serious,” he counters. “Can you even imagine how you’d explain to your son when he’s twelve or thirteen why his Uncle Matty sleeps in your bed? Really? I fucking want you. You’re probably the only thing I’ve ever wanted. But you said it yourself—you knew a long time ago I am the last thing you need.”

I clench my hand in the fabric of his shirt. “You are the only thing I need.”

His face crumples, like he’s in physical pain. “Please don’t do this. Let me go. I get it. I do. I know this was a fucking fantasy—I’ve always known that. But if you don’t let me go now—when you eventually do—I’m gonna fucking break in half. Please understand that. Please know that I can’t lose you. If we end it now, I think we can come back from it. As friends.”

I’m shaking my head. I’m moving closer to him. Ending it is incomprehensible. It’s already too late for me. “I gave myself to you. Don’t throw that back in my face.”

“Fischer…”

“I can’t go back,” I tell him. “I meant what I said this morning. It’s you and me. That’s it.”

“It can’t work.”

“It has to work. We make it work. Unless it’s not worth it,” I say, realizing I just put my future and my heart on the chopping block.

He bites his lip and something like agony tightens his eyes. His hand grips my neck so fast I gasp. “Am I ? Think about it. Don’t just say yes because you know it’s what I want to hear. Am I worth it?”

I don’t have to think about it. The truth is imprinted on my soul. “You are everything.”

Something feral and possessive flashes in his dark eyes before he presses his mouth to mine. I part my lips, immediately taking the kiss deep, trying to prove to him that we’re not some fluke of proximity and chemistry. That he’s no phase or fling to me. He’s the only one I trust. The only one I want. We’re intertwined in a way I may never understand except to say that life without him would barely qualify as a life. I went without him long enough. It will never happen again—not if I have any say in it.

He pulls away with a frustrated groan.

“Don’t go,” I tell him.

“I was leaving anyway,” he reminds me.

The fact that our relationship has any borders or limits eats at me. I’m restless. Stupidly so. Of course, I can’t spend every second of every day glued to his side. It’s impossible, and it’s probably not healthy, either. However, this fantasy I have, of him and me, alone on a deserted island with only each other to turn to for food, shelter, sex—every basic need—is an option I would choose in a heartbeat if I didn’t have Vaughn to consider.

But because I do, I understand why Matthew feels threatened. I also know we need to be careful and not rush into anything we can’t come back from. But I’m afraid we might have already crossed the point of no return.

“I love you,” he says when he pulls away.

Meeting his eyes, I respond, “I love you, too.”

He presses his lips together and forces out an apology. “Sorry I freaked out. I trust you. I’ll come back before work, okay?”

Jesus, the fucking relief. I nod, grateful beyond words.

He kisses my cheek and extracts himself from my grip. I follow him out of the bedroom, smoothing my hair and wiping my mouth.

“See you all later,” he says, barely stopping to acknowledge Gavin and Ravenna at the table.

“Bye, Matthew!” Gavin calls out.