Page 116 of Fly's Path

Fly bursts through a break in the maze walls. He races up to me without a word, stopping only when he’s mere inches from me.

What is going on?

Like we’re in a slow-motion movie, he leans down towards me. Every millimeter closer he gets pushes a smidgen of breath outof my lungs. Who cares about breathing? I want him to kiss me. No, I need him to kiss me…now.

Waiting might kill me. I shove my hand into his hair and pull his lips to mine. Like the starving woman I am, I devour them, trying to shove all the emotions I feel into one single kiss.

Fly meets that passion with his own before lifting his head away so that we can both suck in gasping breaths of air.

Emotionally and physically wiped out, my head collapses onto his chest as I continue trying to refill the air my lungs so desperately need.

“Does that answer your question?”

“Huh?” I don’t have the strength to lift my head and look at him.

“Yes, Sheri, I want you to care.”

“Oh.”

“Can you move?”

“Not really. The last twenty-four hours have been a teeny bit exhausting.”

“Well then, there’s only one thing to do about that.”

His body moves, then suddenly my feet aren’t on the ground anymore. “What are you doing?”

“Finding us someplace to rest.”

He says it so calmly, like he isn’t hefting me around like a sack of potatoes…that’s not quite true. I’m cradled in his arms like a precious treasure. “You really are working on that prince title.” I loop my arms around his shoulders when my body settles enough to realize we aren’t going to fall.

“As long as you put the word ‘my’ before it every time, I’m game.”

Words like that make my heart pitter-patter. I lean up and kiss his cheek, which is covered in a five o’clock shadow even though it’s early in the morning. “Did you have a long night?”

“Yeah.”

“Did worrying about me make it worse?”

He stops and stares down at me. “Yes.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too. No more wild runs in the middle of the night, okay?”

He’s asking for something I can’t give. “I wish I could say okay. But I run when I have more emotions than I can process. It doesn’t happen often, but I can’t promise not to do it.”

“When you need to run, you call me.”

“If we’re together and you aren’t out on some important super-secret mission, I’ll call you.” It isn’t what he wants, but it’s all I can give.

“You make me sound like a spy.”

Ohhh. “Are you a spy? You couldn’t answer that if you were, and I don’t think they let men in biker gangs into super-secret branches of the military.”

“We aren’t a gang. We’re a motorcycle club.”

“So you keep telling me.” I lean up and kiss his jaw again, loving the little prickles against my lips.