Beneath the Stars (Falling Stars 4)

Fact he couldn’t handle the idea of losing her.

In it was this old agony.

The kind that was distinct.

The kind that I recognized all too well.

They made it around to the other side of the car when Maggie stopped and turned to look at him, her expression fierce and soft and a fucking wrecking ball to my senses.

She reached out and touched his chest. “Hey, I’m okay. I’m right here.”

Girl was so real and genuine. Both wise and naïve.

“But what if you weren’t?” His voice cracked.

“We can’t live life on what if’s, Royce. You know that. I can’t live my life in fear any longer. We have to embrace every day. Cherish them. Use them because each day is a gift that’s been given, and I refuse to waste any more of them because I’ve already wasted enough.”

Royce’s face pinched and he spread his hand over hers and pressed it tighter to his chest. “And it’s my job to make sure you have a hundred years of them.”

Her smile was soft.

Understanding.

“No, Royce, it’s not. But the fact that you want to? It means everything to me.”

His tatted throat bobbed hard, and he pulled away to open the passenger door, unable to give her a response. “I’ll get in the back.”

She gave a nod.

The second he wedged into the miniature backseat, I was right there, taking his spot, slippin’ my arm around her waist so I could help her the rest of the way in.

Turned out, it was me who needed assistance. The way my knees almost buckled at the connection. At the furnace inside that someone had turned to a thousand degrees.

Maggie tried to swallow her gasp.

Shocked, too.

What in the actual fuck?

“You good?” I played it off like I was asking her the same question as her brother.

She gulped. “Yep.”

Another one of those lies.

I angled her into the seat. “In you go, Sweet Thing.”

Royce all but growled from the back seat.

Right then, he could fuck off.

I dipped my head in, watching her as I grabbed the seat belt and dragged it across her body.

Girl right there.

Invading my space.

Infatuating my senses.

Makin’ me weak.

The lock snapped into place, and Maggie heaved a breath.

I froze for a second, just staring at her, trying to rein the direction my heart was thumping. “You good?” I asked again.

“Yeah. Thank you.”

“You sure we can’t take you to the ER to get checked out?”

“I’m sure.”

“Stubborn,” Royce grumbled.

Finally, I gave her a slight nod and dipped back out. I rushed around the front, waving at the guy who was still standing there watching us. “Thanks for your help.”

He chuckled, something gleaming in his eye. “Play it cool, young man.”

Dude actually tipped his head toward where Maggie sat.

Tell me I wasn’t that fuckin’ obvious?

I just let my brow curl, and I moved the rest of the way around to slip into the driver’s seat.

And there it was—I was slammed by her aura all over again.

Vanilla and jasmine.

Sweet, sweet, sweet.

I scrubbed a palm over my face like it could break it up, then I looked over at her and she was looking at me.

Soft.

Tender.

But there was more lingering in that charcoal gaze.

Strokes of pencil that shrouded and shadowed.

I’d bet my left nut she was keeping a secret.

One she didn’t want to tell.

Had to respect that because I knew that feeling all too well.

“You want to go home…I’ll get you home.” I cracked a playful smirk and gave her a little salute before I shifted into gear.

I gunned it down the street.

And I just barely registered the sight of the silver car sitting off to the side of the intersecting road through my rearview mirror.

Nine

Maggie

“See, I knew that cut was deep.”

“It is not deep.” I sent a scowl at my brother who hovered behind Emily where she knelt to clean my knee.

I sat on the edge of the massive tub in my bathroom, pretty much in the same spot where I’d been tending to Rhys last night.

I hadn’t talked to him in months, and now I couldn’t escape him.

The lure and the trap.

I was still dealing with the after-effects of the car ride home.

The man so big where he’d taken up the space. The muscles of his hulking arm flexing as he’d driven.

Aggressively.

Almost violently.

Glancing at me every second or two.

Seeing that I was safe. But it was more than that. The way he was looking at me.

This man who could so easily destroy me.

Decimate.

Annihilate.

Sitting there, I still wore my running shorts and tank. Drenched in sweat. Covered in dirt and blood and most likely a sheen of fear.

Probably not my best look.

I flinched when Emily dabbed at the cut. She sent me an apologetic glance. “Sorry. Does that sting?”

“Just a little,” I said as I sucked in a steeling breath, trying to put on a brave face.

Emily cringed when she worked the Q-tip a little deeper.