Page 73 of The Truth of Our Past

“You’re unbelievable. You insult me, and I am so flattered my first reaction is to say ‘thank you.’ You’re a soul-sucking wizard.” Von’s voice is soft and his eyes glow in the dim light.

“You love that about me.” I untwine one hand to sweep his hair off his face.

“I do,” he whispers.

He didn’t say he loves me and I didn’t say it either, but it’s there. Under the words. It’s in his eyes and our bodies. Holding his gaze captive, the moment lengthens and binds us together. I can’t imagine anything could tear us apart.

In this moment, we’re invincible together.

Von cranes his neck up to kiss my nose and the spell breaks.

I’m worried the next moment will be too emotional, so I say, “I don’t know about your soul, but I’m a wizard at sucking. I’ve been called God more than once by you.” I rut against him because he was right.

I’ve never been so starved for another person that I can’t imagine an ending. Foregoing eating and sleeping to have my body next to his isn’t a sacrifice.

It’s probably my dick talking, but no part of me is arguing.

Chapter thirty-two

Von

Alec is constantly on my mind. His smile with those seductive dimples. His tattoos that I’ve begun to memorize and see in my dreams. His enormous heart and how he cares for his friends.

Thankfully, I’ve finished most of my sculptures for my art show so I can afford the luxury of my fascination with him.

Alec has turned me into either a sex addict or an Alec addict.

He teased me about being a stalker, but it’s not a joke. My body craves his and resents that we can’t always be in the same room.

I don’t know how long I can hold out before I tell him I love him. It’s so big inside me I’m going to burst with it. I’ve told partners I’ve loved them but none held my heart as he does. My feelingsfor them were tender, ordinary, and easy to get over. Being with Alec is extraordinary and without him the color and light would drain from the world.

Swedes aren’t big believers in soulmates. The concept is ridiculous since there are billions of people in the world and so much potential for different love matches. To think there is only one person meant for you is a product of pop culture, movies, and songs. I’ve viewed love as a steady comfort like my parents. A quiet affection that will strengthen over time.

Alec decimated that idea. My feelings for him are not quiet or steady or comforting. They’re wild, unpredictable, ever-changing, and all-consuming. A love so big, eternity is near long enough. I’m starting to feel insane. Maybe it’s not love, maybe I’m going insane.

I pour all my pent-up emotions into a gift for Alec. A sculpture. The material alone for my vision is way more money than I could ever sell the finished product for. But it’s for Alec and cost isn’t an issue. I bought a giant piece of titanium from a wholesaler since I couldn’t find this much from recyclers.

Originally, I created a mold of a man lying on his side. A man without a head or legs below the knee. It could be anyone’s chest, back, and butt. Anonymous, but Alec will know it’s me.

The original idea was supposed to be an inside joke because he said I could make money sculpting my ass. My art will show him the future I see for us. I redesigned it, forging indestructible metal into a sculpture of us intertwined. Linked together foreternity. Our heads are in each other’s necks, so our features aren’t distinguishable.

Alec said he could tell when artists put their hearts and souls into their work. This is my expression of love for him, and I’m desperate for him to see it.

The mold sets and I run my hands over our twisted bodies. The smooth metal is cool in contrast to the intimate pose. Visually, it’s sensual and evokes heat. It’s my best work. The men look as if they can come to life and you’ll hear their moans of pleasure for each other.

I’m moving the tattoo on my hip to the shoulder on my sculpture. And carving the Nordic symbol for male love on my ass. For Alec.

Alec has too many tattoos to display on the metal, so I’m recreating the one that means the most to him, the wolf for his found family, encompassing his back.

The sculpture is private, carnal, and a physical representation of our deepest connection. Only for us.

I can’t display my love for him for other people’s consumption, to judge or offer commentary.

When I finish the sculpture tonight, I’ll give it to him and we can spend tomorrow in bed. I cancel our dinner plans with a text and think of a spectacular way to unveil it to him and profess my love.

Foolish by Forest Black

“Honey, I’m home,” Alec sings as he bangs open my apartment door. The irony of hearing the first words I heard him speak guts me. “Viking, let’s go. You need to eat and I’m not taking no for an answer.”

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