Page 72 of Heat Clickbait
"You're mine now," I murmured against her neck, my lips brushing the fresh bite mark. "No take backs."
She laughed, the sound breathless and satisfied. "As if I'd want to. You're stuck with me, Crash."
"Good," I said, already feeling my cock stir again at the possessive note in her voice. "Because I'm pretty sure I could do this forever."
And for the first time in my life, I actually meant it.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Ghost
I stood in my streaming room at 3 AM, surrounded by darkness except for the soft glow of my monitors on standby. The familiar weight of plastic bricks filled my hands as I worked on the city sprawling across my desk, a miniature metropolis I'd been building for six months, each structure representing a different anxiety I couldn't voice.
The door opened without a knock. Only Callie did that now, moving through our space like she belonged here. Like she belonged with us. With me.
Her scent hit before I saw her, spun sugar and chili pepper, but layered now with honey, whiskey, ocean spray, and that electric energy that was pure Crash. Four bonds. Four marks on her neck.
Not mine.
My fingers stilled on the Lego pieces, a half-built bridge suspended between two towers. Bridges were the hardest to build. They required trust that both sides would hold.
"Couldn't sleep?" Her voice was soft, careful. She knew my tells by now, knew that 3 AM Lego sessions meant the noise in my head had gotten too loud.
I didn't answer. Couldn't. The words tangled in my throat like they always did when it mattered most. It had been years since the accident, and I still couldn't make important words come out right.
She moved closer, bare feet silent on my carpet. The oversized hoodie she wore was mine, I realized. The one I'd left in the nest last week. Seeing her in it did something complicated to my chest.
"Mind if I sit?"
I shifted slightly, making room. She settled beside me on the floor, close enough that I could feel her warmth but not touching. She understood my boundaries, the careful distance I needed even when every instinct screamed to pull her closer.
We sat in silence for seventeen minutes. I knew because I counted. I always counted when things felt too big. She didn't try to fill the quiet with words or demand explanations. She just... existed beside me, her breathing gradually syncing with mine.
"That's beautiful," she finally said, looking at my city. "What's this building?"
I pulled up my phone, typing quickly. Thankfully Callie was used to me occasionally going nonverbal by now.
Memory museum. Each floor is a different year with the first pack.
She read it, then looked at the structure more carefully. Five floors. Five years of happiness before everything shattered on a highway merge.
"And this one?" She pointed to a towering structure made entirely of black bricks.
Where I keep the things I can't say.
"Must be getting crowded in there."
A laugh escaped before I could stop it, rusty, barely there, but real. She smiled at the sound, not making a big deal of it even though we both knew I rarely laughed.
I went back to building, and she watched. Not with the frustrated attention of people waiting for me to be "normal," but with genuine interest. After a while, she picked up some loose bricks.
"Can I?"
I nodded, watching as she started constructing something beside my city. Her fingers weren't practiced like mine, and her structure wobbled, but she kept going. It took shape slowly. A small house with a garden, simple and warm-looking.
"It's us," she said quietly. "If you want it to be."
My hands shook as I reached for specialized pieces, the ones I saved for important builds. Working in silence, I created a pathway between my city and her house. Not a straight line. It curved and wound, with small rest areas and lamp posts. A journey, not a destination.
