Page 29 of Sleep With Us

“Did he hurt you, though?”

Zee closed his eyes and laid back, keeping his eyes closed. “You want me to answer that?”

“It’s wrong, Zee.”

“It doesn’t fucking matter.”

“It does.”

“I’m telling you it doesn’t.”

“And I’m telling you that I—” I cut myself off before saying too much.

He cracked an eye open. “You what?”

“Nothing.”

“Tell me.”

“It’s nothing.”

“The fuck? It’s not nothing if you can’t say it.”

I shrugged, and scooted across the short space to lean against the opposite wall, needing a bit more room to gather up all my leaking feelings.

“Kitten.” Zee huffed. “Talk to me.”

“He hurts you, and I can’t let it go like you can. I just can’t. Because when you’re gone, when you’re there, with him, it hurts inside. It hurts my heart. I want to hurt him for what he does to you, Zee.” The list of people I wanted to brutally deal with only had a few names on it, but Sebastien’s was right up there.

“Kitten, look at me.” He clutched the side of the bath, wings spread behind him, horns and hair gleaming wet. “You can’t let him get inside you, that’s where his power is. If you make it so it doesn’t hurt, he can’t control you.”

“Is that where you are? It doesn’t hurt you anymore so it doesn’t matter?”

“Mostly. I stopped caring about me years ago.”

“When you were sold?”

“When I was sold.” Zee slunk back into the water. “I can help the others by having Seb focus on me. Then I come back here, and I know what it’s like to have this life, even if it’s not meant for me. I still have it for a short while. It’s enough. Can you have me, like this, like I am, Adam? With half of me here and half there? Because if you can’t, then maybe I shouldn’t come back? If all it’s going to do is hurt you?”

No, no, no, no. I’d make it work. “I can have you, even if it’s just half of you. If that’s all you can give.”

“Okay.” He nodded.

“Okay.”

“No chasing after Sebastien?” he asked.

“No chasing after Sebastien,” I grumbled. Breaking his contract wasn’t technically chasing after Sebastien. “I care about you,” I mumbled, because if I said it any louder, he’d hear the wobble in my voice.

He smiled in sympathy. “You think you do because you’re sad, grumpy, feeling guilty, and you haven’t eaten mac and cheese yet.”

He was wrong. I knew my heart—the truest part of me—and it cared for Zodiac in ways that went far beyond friendship. But maybe it was a good thing he didn’t believe me. “You want ice cream?”

“Is that what follows mac and cheese?”

“Every time.”

“Then fuck yes, I’m all in.” He flopped back in the tub.