The longer I stay in bed, the more I dread leaving it. It’s quiet, a rarity of late. Guilt? I’m heavy with it. Not just from the fight but the weeks of containment bubbling over the edges of my carefully erected barriers. Suffice it to say, I’ve not been my best self.

Finally crawling up to meet the masses, I’m unprepared for the instant rush of emotions my shelter protects me from. The force of the blast pushes me back, and I hit my head on the vault door. If not for Derry’s fast reaction and suspicious placement, I’d have fallen.

“I swear I’m not creepy peeping.” He’s proud of himself for resisting his inappropriate urges. “I just wanted to check on you.”

I rub my head, a goose egg forming from the whack. “I’m impressed with your restraint. Not once did I get Peepy D vibes while I was sleeping.”

“I should get Ryan.”

“If I can’t handle a hit like this, I may as well lock myself down there,” I grouse. “Is Brody around?”

His jaw clenches, so I extend an olive branch. “I’m just telling him I plan to take the day off.”

He relaxes, and I contain an eye roll. Barely.

“Are you still mad at me?”

I sigh. “Not mad, no.”

“You should do breakfast before you give blood today,” he suggests before rapidly backpedaling. “I mean, if you want to. You didn’t eat well yesterday.”

When we reach the bottom of the basement stairs, I stop on the first one and turn to face him. From my elevated position, we’re the same height. Looking him in the eye is important for what comes next. Time to rip off the bandage.

Is he going to cry? It looks like he wants to. I place my hands on his cheeks, and he does. He cries. I brush at his tears, praying for strength. “This isn’t working.”

Gasping, he wraps me in his arms. I rub circles on his back like he’s done on countless occasions to soothe away my stress.

“I’ve been guided by the idea of us for the duration of this life. Getting to know you is taking more time than I expected,” he explains.

I draw back. “You’ve been guided by the idea of us. Basically, it wouldn’t matter who I am, or what my likes and dislikes are, and compatibility is irrelevant. You’re holding onto this idea, for what? You didn’t even want my fire fuel. What are you truly hoping to get out of this?”

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“You’re not an expendable energy source.” He sighs. “You’re a person first. Don’t forget that. You and me? Us? We’re meant to be. Mel saw that.”

“Yes, Mel saw us together, and we came together as she projected. I’m not discounting your presence as a bright side in my life that’s helped me get where I currently am, but you’re not my knight in shining armor anymore. You’re more like a jailer.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “You can’t accept me as I am?”

“I do. That’s why I’m certain this won’t work.”

“You want me.”

I suck in a breath. Want is such a tricky thing. It rarely coincides with need.

“You want me,” he repeats.

He tips his head, bringing his lips crashing into mine. All the emotions left lingering pool in the force of the kiss that follows. My fire flashes forward to simmer in the pit of my stomach, waiting there for Derry to stir it. He draws me in, pressing me against his heated body. I fight to contain the liquid flame boiling and bubbling over the edges.

“Too hot.” I pant. “Can’t touch you...will burn you.”

Derry lets the fire settle by slowing his pace, peppering kisses on my cheeks and neck. My breath hitches when he whispers in my ear, his voice a sultry hum, “Then I’ll touch you.”

The heat between us grows as he guides me onto the stairs, my legs unable to hold any weight. His hands slide along my sides, inch by inch progressing until they reach their destination at the backs of my thighs. He grips them firmly and hauls them around his waist, pressing harder against me. The friction causes my hips to twitch. He moves with me, attuned to the ever-accelerating flame of my desire.

When I try to move my hands to his back, he snatches them, keeping them away from the temptation to touch, to burn him with the fire speeding toward my fingertips.

“I’ll touch you,” he repeats, his hot breath sending shockwaves all the way to my toes.

I grab the sides of the stairwell while his free hands roam, exploring my body. As the heat grows to a dangerous level, my breaths coming out in shallow spurts, his pace increases. The bubbling fire in the pit of my stomach erupts, streaming hot lava inside me with reckless abandon.

Missing this closeness more than I care to admit changes nothing. Lust is not love. Yes, I’m wildly attracted to him, but wildfires are meant to be tamed. Not stoked. His intentional distraction is dangerous. More control tactics. I’m holding everyone else together, too, and if I let them all go to keep hold of Derry…well, it won’t matter what choices Derry or I make. They’ll all be blown away from the force of my explosion. No one will survive it. Not even me.

I shove at his chest, jolting him back a few steps. The expression on his face is at first confused, then angry, then resigned. The smell of grease fire permeates the room, an unpleasant scent that has me plugging my nose. I apply pressure to my throbbing temples. Must’ve really whacked it a good one.

“You said…” I swallow hard. “You told me there were no stipulations except I couldn’t be mad when I asked you. I’m not mad.”

“What are you asking?” He radiates regret. “You want me to leave?”

“No, never that.” I shake my head emphatically. “But this part of us is done. I’m asking you to accept that we’re done.”

He blinks rapidly. “You need time.”

I don’t need time, but he obviously does, so I nod.

“Okay,” he murmurs, kissing me chastely on the forehead before extending his hand to help me up.

“Okay,” I echo.

It’s not okay yet, but it will be. I will be, and so will he.