Page 91 of Dreadful

Something in the energy between us softens. His attention dips toward my mouth as the space between us disappears.

His lips ghost lightly across mine as he says, “I’ve perfected the art of missing you, Bells.”

The words land somewhere below thought. My chest pulls tight like a string drawn straight.

“Don’t make me do it again,” he practically begs.

“I’m right here,” I say, shaking my head slightly.

“Yeah, for how long?”

I sink lower in the water until it closes over my shoulders, buying myself a second. The pool light throws blue ripples across his face, and I can’t answer him. How do I tell Gage that Rafe all but told me to move in with him a few nights ago, and that I’m tempted—actually tempted—if the Calloways and my siblings can come too?

“I can’t stay here forever.” I tip my head toward the house. That much is definitely true.

“That’s not what I meant.” His hand finds my knee underwater, then slides up to rest at the curve of my waist. He doesn’t pull me closer. He just holds there, thumb tracing slow circles against my skin like he can’t keep his hands still around me.

“It’s not?”

He lowers himself in the shallow end until we’re nearly eye level. His right hand finds my left underwater and laces our fingers together, palm to palm. “You know what I meant, Bell.”

I don’t know what happens when all of this is over. I can’t promise him forever when part of me still believes it’s all going to blow up spectacularly in my face. But there is one thing I know with absolute certainty.

“All I know…” I wrap one arm around his neck and pull our bodies nearly flush under the water, close enough that I feel his heartbeat through both our chests. “Is that I didn’t want to leave you then. And I don’t want to leave you now.”

It sounds so simple out loud. It isn’t simple. It’s the closest thing to a promise I’ve ever handed anyone without a safety clause attached.

Gage kisses me. Slow this time, a deliberate press of lips that tastes like restraint and hunger held in perfect tension. His free hand comes up to cup my jaw, thumb stroking the line of my cheekbone as his mouth moves against mine with a reverence that steals my breath.

It feels like rediscovery—like he’s tracing the shape of a memory he thought was gone forever, relearning the softness, the heat, the way I sigh when he nips gently at my lower lip. His other arm tightens around my waist, pulling me flush against him in the water until there’s no space left between us.

I can feel the heavy beat of his heart against my chest, the way his breathing hitches when I slide my hands into his hair. He kisses me like he’s memorizing the shape of my mouth, like he’s trying to make sure I remember this—remember him.

As if I could ever forget.

We come apart eventually, our foreheads touching. For a few seconds, neither of us says anything. I can still feel his pulse where his wrist rests against my collarbone, slower now, steady.

“You never gave me your worst.”

I blink. “What?”

“Best and worst, Bells.” Gage gives me a small smile, the same one he used to wear waiting for me at the bottom of his driveway. “You only gave me the best.”

It takes me a second to remember the game.

My day wasn’t exactly bad. Weird, maybe. Complicated definitely. Seeing Lola was the easy part—her face across the café table, her laugh cutting through everything else. Everything that came after she showed up was a whole different category.

“My day got a little… complicated after that.”

Gage’s brows lift. He shifts in the water so he can see me better, one arm still hooked around my waist. “Complicated how?”

I hesitate. Whatever Cruz found in that storage unit belongs to him. It's his mother, his family, his discovery to explain when he's ready.

But Ryder? That one's mine.

I wrap my legs around his waist. “I might've found us another job.”

“I'm in.” The answer comes so fast I pull back enough to look at him.