His mouth whispered over mine, sending shockwaves over my lips. He never moved to increase the pressure, and I didn’t want to break the intoxicating spell he’d cast over me.

Never had a kiss had the power to invoke an entire body shiver.

Never had a touch pampered me with feathery urgency, all while promising priceless rewards if we didn’t rush.

He kissed me, and I kissed him back. Neither of us pushed for more, content in the delicate freedom we’d created. Our lips stayed dry and innocent against each other’s, adding friction and heat. My nipples pebbled to be touched, his heart rate switched from a flutter to a steady knock against his ribs.

And still we didn’t break the boundaries of virtuous. This kiss felt safe. It gave Gil exactly what I’d wanted—a place of unconditional acceptance and patience.

I sighed, melting into his control.

The moment I gave him utmost ownership over me, the tip of his tongue licked my bottom lip. Barely there, an erotic tease.

I moaned, trembling. My body liquefied and nullified—preparing for him and cancelling anything else. My fingers claimed his chest; my mouth parted with invitation.

We hovered on the precipice of a simple kiss evolving to sizzling sex.

Gil wasn’t sober, but he’d successfully made my head swim with desire, so we were both inebriated and at the mercy of baser controls.

However, instead of deepening the kiss, he pulled away with a heart-wrenching groan. “I can’t.” His eyelids slammed over blazing, blistering green. “I’m sorry.”

I trembled again, but this time with worry. “It’s fine. I’m not expecting—”

“I want you, O. I want you so fucking much.” His eyes snapped open again. “Turning you away tonight. Fuck.” A cruel laugh shattered our safe silence. “Turning you away every time...it rips me apart.”

I froze. Was this Gil talking or the vodka? Was this naked truth or embolden fibs?

“You don’t need to explain—”

“Do you know what I thought when I first saw you again?” His forehead furrowed with grief. “I thought...how did I think I was living when you’ve had a piece of me this entire time? A piece I’ve been missing and could never replace.”

Tugging me to him, he buried his face in the crook of my neck, preventing me from watching him. “I almost buckled to my knees when I recognised you. I fought every instinct to call you mine.”

I wrapped my arms around him, hugging him hard. “I felt the same. A punch to the chest...like I came alive again and—”

“Don’t say that.”

“How can I not when you’re—”

“You haven’t heard the rest yet.” His lips skated over the side of my throat, a threat rather than a caress. “I saw you, remembered you, wanted you, and then, I cursed you. I swore at motherfucking fate for putting you back in my life.”

His words were scalpels slicing deep, while his voice was poison, pouring directly onto the wounds. I struggled in his embrace, trying to study his features. “Wh-what is that supposed—”

“I left for a reason bigger than you or me. I left because I had no other choice. For years, I survived without you. I lied and made myself believe I’d forgotten you. But every day, I’d see an orange or an octopus or something beginning with O, and I’d remember all over again. And I’d hate that I’d had to leave you. I’d beg for some way of explaining things—of making you understand why I left.”

“Tell me now...you can—”

“No, I can’t. That curse is mine to bear. I’m being punished. I deserve it for what I’ve done.”

“You’re not—”

“Punished every fucking day of my life, and I don’t deserve to find small pockets of happiness whenever I’m with you. It’s not fair that I have you when she—” He inhaled deep, his breath shaky and contaminated with his sins. “When I saw you again, I knew I wouldn’t be able to resist you. I knew I’d take you, fuck you, and do my best to keep you. And I also knew what would happen if I did.” His arms banded tighter around me, so tight he suffocated me. “I’m so sorry, Olin. So sorry for the past, the present, and the future. I’m sorry you ever fell in love with me. I’m sorry I ever fell in love with you. And I’m sorry for being so fucking weak not to push you away when I had the chance.”

“Gil, let me go.” I scratched at his back, doing my best to get a breath and for him to stop talking such insanity. “Stop.”

His arms loosened but not enough for me to see his eyes. He sniffed, burrowing his face into my hair. “You think you’re helping me...you’re only making it worse. You think you’re saving me...you’re only condemning yourself. I’m not safe, O. I’ve told you that. I’ve tried to make you understand.” He shook me as if this was all my fault. “You’re not safe because of me. And even now, knowing what I know, I’m too fucking weak to push you away.”

I ignored the whispers of worry in my heart and stroked his spine. “It’s okay. I get that—”

“You don’t get anything.”

“If you stopped talking so cryptically I would—”

“No.” He pushed me away, rolling me onto my other side even though I fought to stay facing him. The moment I lay with my back to him, he scooped me into his front, gathering me tight. “I’m the most selfish man alive because I don’t deserve this moment with you. I don’t deserve any moment where I get to be happy while others—” He choked, his voice turning bitter. “I hate that I have you in my arms. I hate that you’ve helped soothe the pain inside me. I hate that I’m greedy enough to keep wanting more, all while I know I’m not worthy. I brought this nightmare upon myself, and I can’t run away from it.”

His entire body wracked with violent belief of his admission. “But do you know what I hate the most? I hate that others are paying for my mistakes. She is paying for my mistakes. And I can’t stop it. I can’t fucking do a goddamn thing about it, and it’s killing me knowing I’ve let her down, let so many people down. Fuck!”

I didn’t speak, waiting for Gil to continue purging, willing him to speak and hopefully remove the festering guilt inside him.

But he didn’t continue.

He didn’t breathe or twitch or gather me closer.

It was as if he’d been possessed by honesty, granted a small window in which to talk, before the alcohol ripped away his coherency and shoved him face first into unconsciousness.

“Gil...” I rubbed his arm around my stomach. “Gil, talk to me.”

He couldn’t go to sleep. Not now. Not after so many confusing, terrible confessions.

Confessions that made no sense and only layered me with a deep-seated terror.

Who was ‘she’? Was he in love with someone else? Was that why he felt guilty with me in his bed when all along he loved another? Who were paying for his mistakes? What mistakes?

“Gil.” I pinched him.

But it was no use.

He was awake but no longer willing to narrate his secrets.

His arms banded tight and possessive. His legs hooked through mine. Our bodies plastered together, head to toe. “Go to sleep, Olin Moss. Go to sleep and forget everything I said. Forget about me. Forget you ever knew a man who would willingly put you in the face of danger all because he was too weak to say no.”

“What danger have you put me in?”

He sighed. And in that sigh, too many things existed.

Too much pain.

Too much history.

Too much unknown.

“I can’t answer that.”

“Is it about the murdered girls? Are you involved...after all?”

He flinched behind me. “Shush. Go to sleep.”

“Gil...”

“Hush.” He clung to me and allowed alcohol to dull his senses.

He might have the cushion of liquor to aid his tattered heartbeats, but I didn’t.

And instead of sleep, we stayed bound and entwined just as dawn arrived.

Both very aware something had happened in the dark.

That we’d broken any hope of a future.

That everything had happened too late.