Shallow River

"Yes," I whisper.

"What does it look like?"

"I've seen love in the eyes of a broken woman every time she had drugs in front of her. I've seen it in the eyes of a young boy when he took his first drink of alcohol to escape his shitty life. I've seen it in a grown man exploring the body of a little girl for the first time." I suck in a sharp breath. "I've seen that in many different eyes."

A low growl rumbles from Mako's chest, the vibrations travelling across my back. I ignore it.

"The face of love is everchanging, but yet it looks the same every time."

"That's not the face of love, that's the art of escape," he answers lowly.

I don’t respond. I don’t know how to.

“Take me to the secret place,” he demands gently. Finally, I open my eyes.

I nod my head once, slowly extract myself from his hand and lead the way. It feels like the devil is nipping at my heels. The type of devil you should stay away from but only want to get closer to. Willpower and force are the only two things keeping me from running to the room. From discovering exactly what Mako plans on doing once we get there. I’m terrified to find out, but I’m nearly shaking with the need to know.

I lift the secret shelf, and the room is presented to me. My home away from hell. Where I spent the majority of time away from Shallow Hill. I walk into the room, my eyes finding every detail of this room except the one I should be looking at.

Mako’s demanding presence is right behind me, and when the door shuts, it feels like my fate has been sealed. I don’t know what it is yet, but I think I’m going to like it.

I’m nervous. I’m not sure if I’ve ever felt this type of anxiousness before. This isn’t the type of feeling I got when Billy came around. Or when a man would sneak into my room at night. Or even when I would make Ryan angry.

This is the jittery nervous you get when you’re in a room alone with your crush. My confidence was something I always held onto tightly. It was my armor and it prevented me from feeling anything but sure of myself when in the same room with a man I wanted.

That confidence is lingering right outside my reach. Still there, but impossible to grasp onto right now.

“Do you remember when we first met?” Mako asks, breaking the silence.

“Of course. When I met your parents,” I answer, my voice deceptively smooth.

Mako slowly shakes his head. “That’s not the first time we’ve met, River.”

His words silence the nerves. My brow creases with confusion as I try to recall meeting Mako before that.

“I… I don’t remember,” I say. An almost despondent smile slides on his face. How could we have met before Ryan? How could I not remember him? Mako has a face you don’t forget.

“You were drinking, so I can’t say I’m surprised.” Weariness replaces the confusion. I drank a lot my freshman and sophomore year of college. It was only after Ryan and I started getting serious that I stopped. He said it made him look bad having a sloppy girlfriend.

“What’d I do?” I ask hesitantly. He chuckles.

“You changed my life, is what you did.” The V between my brow deepens as I frown. I don’t know what he could possibly mean by that.

“You punched a man in the nose for touching you in a way you didn’t like. He was getting ready to hit you, and I intervened.”

My eyes widen as the memory comes rushing back, slamming through my brain like a tidal wave. That was Mako. The man who stopped the drunk asshole for bitch slapping me after I broke his nose. I walked away from him without saying thank you, even though I was tempted to show my thanks in more nefarious ways.

“Holy shit,” I gasp. “I do remember that. I hadn’t… I don’t know why I didn’t realize that was you.”

He shrugs a shoulder, taking a step towards me. The anticipation from earlier starts to creep back in as the temperature in the room begins to rise.

“You also didn’t realize it was me that danced with you later that night,” he says—calmly—as if he didn’t just unload a huge fucking bomb on me.

“That was you?” I ask incredulously, my body rearing back in shock. Mako has been my mystery man this entire time? The man that would haunt the back corner of my brain, only to be let out in rare, weak moments.

A satisfied smirk crooks the corner of his lips.

“That was me,” he confirms. He’s staring at me now as if he’s finally caught me. It’s sexy as hell, and my body responds in kind. My pussy grows wet, beginning to pulsate as I inhale the sinful look Mako is giving me now.