The Muse's Undoing

“I mean, you’re pretty high maintenance for a dude, but it’s not like I’m gonna suddenly trust someone else to take care of you.”

My mouth twitches. “I’ll never want anyone else.”

The tenderness in his eyes nearly knocks me back. I want to reach out and take hold of his waistband—just for balance, but I keep myself still, only swaying slightly. “I want you more than I want to breathe,” I confess.

“You ever think about texting me that?”

“Would it have helped?” I ask.

“I think so. Why didn’t you?”

I swallow hard and bow my head. “Because who wants to admit that they’re not even a whole person without someone else?”

“You’re a whole person,” he says, and he takes one of my hands. “Maybe we just happen to share a heart.”

“Maybe that’s it,” I whisper, stroking his knuckles with my thumb, refamiliarizing myself with the heat he exudes. How hot he runs in every way—in all the ways I’ve always been so cold I’ve often felt chilled to the bone.

“I don’t give a fuck what we have to do to be together,” he tells me. “I’m done trying to get anyone to understand something only you and I are capable of knowing. If you’re the only thing I get to have for the rest of my life, I’ll consider that a win.”

“The rest of your life?” I ask.

“Yeah. You’re it. Can you handle that?”

“It’s a lot of pressure.”

He puts his hands around my wrists, lightly encircling them. “Running away with someone in plain sight?”

I manage a small grin. “When you put it that way…”

I used to wonder why me? Why would someone so young and beautiful and full of promise waste their time on someone old and scarred and cynical. But he’s never seen me as any of those things. He’s seen deeper. He’s seen the abandoned child, the traumatized reporter, the soft center that all my guards were built to protect. And every kiss we’ve shared—from the first one—has proven to me over and over again that he loves me. Deeply. It’s the only thing I believe. The only thing in my life that’s real and mine.

Of course I second-guessed everything—that’s who I am, but he’s been so steady, so earnestly in love with me. He’s made it impossible to deny that what we have is extraordinary—once in a lifetime. “You’re sure?” I ask because I’m still me, and I have to.

“Yes, princess.”

I flush, shaking my head before I finally lift my gaze to meet his again. He lets go of my wrists to hold me by the waist, his abs flexing as he crunches up to bring our faces closer. “I love you,” I tell him.

“I love you.”

“And you’ll keep me?” I ask.

He nods slowly. “If you’ll stay. I’ll hide in your closet as long as it takes.”

“And if you get bored?”

Matthew kisses the corner of my mouth, murmuring, “You could never bore me.”

The nervous jump of my stomach tells me he’s right. The balance between us exists due to his persistence and my resistance. He’s uncontainable, and I’m too tightly-wound. He chases, I surrender. Sometimes not in that order. I’m free to kiss him first, but he’ll overwhelm me before I even know what hits me. “So we’re doing this? For real? Forever? No matter what? Good times and bad?”

His gaze drops to my mouth. “All I need to hear is that you want it, too.”

“And then what?’ I ask, feeling my body heat up.

“And then I’m gonna take you apart the way I did the tree.”

“Jesus. Yes—yeah, I want it. Not going anywhere. Ever.”

“Perfect.” His mouth presses into mine, and I part my lips to receive his tongue.