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“Out of all the hot guys out there in the world, why’d I have to want you? The one person I can’t have.”
Because, after all this time, one thing still rings true. I’d sell my soul to see that smile.
“I just need an anchor.” I hear the unspoken request in his statement. It rings through my brain, loud and clear. Be my anchor.
Easton’s a filthy fantasy, a dream I never let myself explore. And now he’s calling to me like a siren’s song.
“Shh, East,” Cannon murmurs again, this time once the door clicks closed. “It’s okay. I’ve got you. I promise, I’ve got you.”
His voice cracks, grating when he murmurs, “I’m not going anywhere, baby. I’m right here.”
Shatter, break, and fall apart first if you need to, I plead internally. But please, just come back to me.
“You own me,” I utter through the gravel caught in my throat. “Every fucking inch of me.”
“Then just know, I always take care of what’s mine,” he whispers back.
“You’re a dream,” I whisper, my nose brushing his. “You’re a dream in the midst of my worst nightmare.”
somewhere during our efforts to put each fragment back in place, we decided to forget to whom each piece belonged. We just healed each other. And now my soul is not mine and mine alone. It’s also his. Just as his is now mine.
