Page 61 of The Sun and Her Star

He walks over and sits down on the bed. He slumps over, his arms resting on his thighs, his hands hanging between his knees, his head bent low.

“Because it’s the truth,” he says quietly.

“Thenwhyare you letting me walk away?” I demand. Confusion, fear, anger, and hurt all whirl around inside me, leaving me breathless.

“Because I can’t do anything about it, Apollo. I can’t give you what you’re asking. Not now.” He runs his hand through his hair as he speaks and I’m sad that I won’t touch that beautiful head of hair again after today.

The first hint of dawn comes streaming through the windows of his apartment and bathes him in a reverent light. But it’s a mirage. The dark is winning. I’m losing him.

I walk toward him. With each step I take, I resign myself to the fact that this is the end.

He turns when I’m just a few feet away, and his posture straightens.

By the time we’re toe to toe, his entire body is taut, and his expression is determined.

I rise up on the very tips of my toes, and I cup his jaw. He closes his eyes as if it hurts, but he strokes his chin across my palm and sighs … like he’s relieved. I stroke the silky hair of his short beard before I fan my fingers on his cheeks. I study his face, admire all the things about it that I’ve always loved.

His eyes are stormy gray pools of memories and feelings. In them, I see my entire youth. I try to see more, but there’s nothing there. No future. Not even the present.

His warm hands close over my mine and then he whispers my name.

I inhale the breath from his words and use it to exhale my own.

“I love you,” I murmur as my fingers glide into his hair.

He groans and slides his hands around my waist and draws us together.

I go willingly, and my body melts into his. His erection molds itself against the yielding flesh of my stomach.

That first delicious quiver of desire spreads and blooms into a flurry of need that grips my entire body. I press closer to him, trying desperately to erase the distance between us and pretend that this moment isn’t, in fact, a eulogy.

My eyes flutter closed as I caress the round curve of his skull before I cradle it in my hands. I savor the soft feathery slide of his hair through my fingers and inhale the lingering scent of ginger from his shampoo.

“I love you, too,” he says softly. His voice is heavy with regret that when I lick my lower lip, I can taste the residue of it.

And then, his lips sweep across mine. The touch is light as gossamer, as fragile as the strands of a spider’s web. Yet it shakes me to my very core.

“Open your eyes, Sunshine.” Graham's voice wafts over me, and I shake my head. If I open my eyes, this will end, and I’m not ready.

“Please,” he asks in a voice I have never been able to resist.

I open my eyes to find his stardust gray eyes wet with unshed tears.

“I’ve never kissed anyone, Apollo,” he says before he lowers his mouth back to mine. Our eyes stay fixed on each other, and I can see the truth in his. He’s letting me go.

My heart thumps in my chest, and I whimper when our lips meet in another gentle kiss.

“I’ve neverlovedanyone.” He takes my top lip between his. He sucks it gently, and I hate him so much for doing this to us. Even now, when everything is broken, when he’s shaking the very foundation my hopes are built on, all I want is for him to choose me.

We feelsogood together. Soright.

Squandering this feels like sinning.

He drags his lips across my cheek and presses them to my ear.

“I’m saving everything I can for you. And I’m sorry, so fucking sorry,” he whispers and then rubs his face into my hair.

“You’re my oxygen,” he murmurs before his lips come back to mine. His strong, warm hand is tender when it cups the nape of my neck. His other hand tightens around my waist, his fingers grasping and pulling me closer. I place my hands on either side of his and then everything else falls away.

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