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  "Tempest," he said, his voice soft.

  "Yeah." There was nothing else to say.

  It was awkward as we padded around the bathroom, cleaning ourselves up, no longer distracted by the haze of desire. It shouldn't be awkward, I thought, feeling strangely disappointed. Had I thought things were going to magically fall into place, just because we'd had sex?

  Walking past me in the bedroom, Silas smacked my ass, the gesture jolting me out of my thoughts. He grabbed my arm and pulled me against him, his lips brushing mine lightly, not kissing me. Regina Spektor played Samson on the stereo, and I began to hum the song, as Silas nuzzled his face against mine and swayed softly to the music. He didn't say anything, and I let him hold me as we danced naked in the hotel room.

  Dancing with him felt sad. I should feel happy, I thought.

  But being with him didn't feel like hello.

  It felt like goodbye.

  ***

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  SILAS

  Lying in bed, I ran my hands through Tempest's hair, my thoughts all over the place. I didn't know what the fuck to think about what was happening between us. She was a ghost from my past I never thought I'd see again. And now, not only seeing her again, but touching her, fucking her...lying here, holding her.

  My brain couldn't begin to process that shit.

  I didn't know what the hell to say to her. There was so much that had gone between us.

  She stirred beside me. "How have you been, Silas?"

  I exhaled heavily. It was the kind of question you get asked at a high school reunion and answer with some bullshit about all the things you're doing, brag about your promotion and your leggy blonde wife and three gorgeous kids.

  I didn't have an impressive response.

  How did I explain what she'd done to me when she left?

  "I'm good," I said.

  "Good," she said. "That's good."

  I was silent.

  "I wasn't good," she said. "For a while. Things weren't good."

  No, I thought. They were shit when you left.

  "Your parents?" I asked. "Are they around?"

  She laughed, the sound bitter. "Somewhere."

  "You don't know?"

  Tempest shrugged. "We had a falling out, after we ran from West Bend," she said. "They needed to lay low. I wanted to stay somewhere, finish senior year. I didn't want to grift anymore. I threatened to turn them in to the cops and they kicked me out."

  "Jesus, Tempest," I said, my hand paused.

  She took my palm, turned her face into it. "I know," she said. "I shouldn't have done something like that."

  "Something like what?"

  "Threatened to turn them in," she said. "It was the ultimate betrayal."

  I slid up to a sitting position, pulled her up against me on the pile of pillows stacked at the head of the bed. "They were the ones dragging you all over the country and raising you like a criminal," I said. "You were seventeen. They were the ones who kicked you out."

  I couldn't fucking understand the way her parents used her. How the hell was she supposed to do grow up to be anything except a criminal, if they'd raised her that way?

  Tempest turned to face me on the bed and tucked her legs underneath her. "It's a grifter thing," she said. "You don't turn someone else in. And family..."

  "But you didn't turn them in," I said.

  "I threatened to," she said. "And I was serious. I would have. I think I would have turned them in and watched them go to prison. It was wrong. I was angry and hateful and I wanted to hurt them for taking me away from West Bend."

  Away from me. I knew that's what she meant.

  "So what happened?"

  "They left," she said. "Hit the road. Disappeared."

  "Without you."

  Tempest nodded. "Poof," she said. "Gone. I've put out feelers, tracked them here and there, just to keep tabs on them. I wanted to make sure they were okay. My mother sent me postcards a few times. I don't know how she found me. I guess she's keeping tabs on me just the same as I am on her.”

  I reached out and cupped her face with my hand, my palm resting on her cheek. Running my thumb along her chin, I said, "Why the hell didn't you just come back to West Bend?"

  Why the hell didn't you come back to me?

  Tempest bit her lower lip, and I ran the pad of my thumb over her lip where she'd pulled it between her teeth. "Back to you?" she asked. "You hated me. And your mother had a point. You were going to wind up getting a college scholarship. You had everything going for you to get the hell out of West Bend. You didn't need me holding you back, getting you in trouble when I stole stuff from someplace or conned the wrong person."

  "Tempest," I began.

  "No," she said. "Don't give me some bullshit about that not being true. It's exactly what would have happened. I would have ruined you." She shrugged away from my hand and looked down at the bed. "I would have, and you know it."

  I wanted to tell her that she ruined me anyway. When she was gone, I had nothing left. For years, that's how I lived. As if I had nothing to live for.

  I was angry at the goddamned world.

  But she silenced me before I could say anything, climbing onto my lap and pressing her lips against mine.

  We didn't speak after that. Instead, she slid onto my cock and we found a gentle rhythm as she wrapped her legs around my waist and rode me until we finally came together in a blinding explosion.

  When she came, I didn't take my eyes off her. I tried to memorize her expression, to etch it onto my brain, save it in my memory so that I could retrieve it in the future.

  I knew what was happening between us couldn't last.

  This moment was fleeting.

  Everything was.

  TEMPEST

  When I woke, sunlight was streaming through the windows and bathing the room in its golden light. Beside me, Silas pressed his body against mine. When I moved, he murmured something and pulled me tighter against him.

  Lying in bed like this with him was a first. When we were teenagers, it was frantic coupling in an abandoned hunting cabin or outside on a blanket under the stars. Never like this.

  It was nice. But at the same time, the bitter sweetness of it broke my fucking heart.

  Silas slid his hand down the side of my hip, nuzzled his face against my neck. "Good morning."

  "Good morning."

  Silas ran his hand over my hip, his erection pressed into me. My body immediately responded, my nipples hardening as he brushed his hands over my breasts. "Tempest," he said, his hand moving back down to grab a handful of my ass. "I can't get enough of you."

  "You sure had me enough last night," I said, barely able to keep the smile from covering my face. "I barely got any sleep."

  "Mhmm," he murmured. "Are you complaining? It doesn't feel like your body is complaining." He reached down between my legs, found my clit and simultaneously pulled my ass against him.

  I laughed. "I'm not complaining in the least," I said. But I swatted his hand away. "I have to pee."

  I slipped out of bed, dodging Silas and laughing as he lunged at me, trying to make another grab for me. Inside the bathroom, I brushed my teeth and generally made myself presentable, marveling at my horrendous case of bed-head.

  Silas pushed open the door and walked inside.

  I whirled around. "Silas!" I squealed, my voice high pitched. "The door was closed. Inappropriate, much?"

  "What? I'm out there about to piss myself," he said, grinning, standing in front of me, morning wood evident.

  "So you're about to pee in front of me?" I asked, shielding my eyes and stepping around him. "I don't need to see that!"

  "Are we not in that place yet?" he asked over his shoulder as I shut the door behind me. I heard him chuckle.

  "No!" I yelled. "We are definitely not in that place."

  When he emerged from the bathroom, he stood, hands on his waist. "So, no peeing in front of you," he said. "Anyone ever tell you you're kind of a prude?"