“True, but if he goes up against us, he’s going to lose.”

“I suppose,” he says with a sigh. I frown. What is wrong with him? My father is not a man who loses confidence in himself, especially not like this. We planned out every move (except for the part about me having sex with Sylas. I went off book for that one), and here we are, exactly where we wanted to be.

“Do you need me to work on him some more?” I ask.

“No, no. Just… make sure you stay in contact with him. Frequently.” That shouldn’t be too hard. I’m pretty much doing it already.

“When are you going to ask him?”

“Soon. After you visit with Lizzy. He really needs some time to think. Figure out what he wants. And then I’ll tell him what he wants.” There’s my confident father.

“That’s right,” I say with a little laugh. My father isn’t someone people say no to, and not just because he has a lot of money and a lot of powerful friends. It’s just the way he is.

“Keep me updated,” he says and I can tell he has other things to do.

“Will do. Love you, Dad.”

“Love you too, kid.” I smile and we hang up.

I don’t expect to hear from Sylas, but then he shows up at the coffee shop where we first met. It’s my preferred studying place, because you can’t have food or drinks in the library.

He just slips into the empty chair across from me, as if he does this all the time.

“Hello,” I say, a little wary.

“Hello,” he says. I wait for him to tell me what he’s doing here, but he doesn’t elaborate. I let myself look at him, but if I’m not careful, I’m going to fall into his eyes and completely lose myself. Again.

“Can I help you with something?”

“I wish we could talk like we used to,” he says after a long silence.

“You mean when we were both conning each other?” I say. He doesn’t wince, just shrugs one shoulder.

The silence takes over again and I decide to take a risk.

“I want to be honest with you now,” I say. “From here on out.”

His eyes narrow the tiniest bit and he studies me, looking for signs that I’m lying.

“And how do I know you’re going to be honest with me?” he says. I have a crazy idea, so I reach into my nose and flip my septum piercing down so he can see it. His eyes widen as I gaze back at him. His eyes flick down to my piercing and then back up.

“You don’t. You’re going to have to trust me.” He leans back and thinks about that for a moment.

“Don’t you expect me to be honest with you?” he says. He’s not mad, he’s not upset. Just… curious. Cautious. As if I’m playing another game. The irony that I’d lie to him about telling him the truth doesn’t escape either of us.

“In an ideal world. But you have to give trust to get it. I want to show you that I can be trustworthy and then we’ll go from there.” I can do that. I can be an open book with him. I can. I will.

“Why?” The corners of his mouth almost lift up in a smile.

“Why, what?”

“Why do you want to be honest with me?”

I lean forward, my forearms on the table. Time to lay it all out. I know if I don’t, I’m going to regret it. “Because I miss you, Sylas. I really do. I know we were both playing a part, but those moments we had were real. I know you felt it.” Just a tiny flicker of surprise is his only reaction.

“I felt it,” I say in a quiet voice. We’re in the middle of a crowded coffee shop, but everything else mutes and blurs around us. It’s all about him.

“What if that’s not enough?” Now he’s the one speaking quietly.

“What if it is?” I say.

I watch that statement hit him. We’re silent again for a while.

“You know I don’t believe in fate,” he says. I close my eyes and fight the urge to cry.

“It’s okay. I’ll believe enough for the both of us.”

“Do you want to take a walk?” he asks. A real smile curls his lips up and he stands, holding his hand out.

“Sure,” I say, and pack up my things. He takes my shoulder bag from me and slings it over his arm and holds my hand in the other.

We walk out of the coffee shop and down the street.

“How’s the tattoo?” he asks.

“Sore. But I think the itching stage is worse than the pain stage.” He nods.

“It absolutely is.”

I keep thinking he’s going to drop my hand, but he doesn’t.

“I don’t know how we go from here,” he admits.

“Me neither. I’ve never been in this particular situation before.” He probably hasn’t either. Not many people have, I’ll wager. I look at him in my peripheral vision.

He’s incredible. It makes me want to take him to the nearest hotel, strip him down and fuck him for days.

“So how is this going to work?” he asks.

“I have no idea. I guess… we just… take it from here. Neither of us trusts the other one, so we’re going to have to rebuild that from square one.” More than rebuild. Once trust is broken, it’s ten times harder to get it back to the way it was.

“You’re right, I don’t trust you,” he says.

“I don’t trust you either.”

He squeezes my and I turn to see he’s smiling.

“What’s that smile for?”

“You, being honest.”

I didn’t even mean it. The words came out of my mouth.

“We have to start somewhere,” I say, shrugging one shoulder.

“We do.”

Our steps are slow and anger the people walking behind us, but we don’t change our pace.

“I’m excited about seeing Lizzy this weekend,” I say, tired of the silence.

Sylas laughs softly.

“To say that she’s excited to see you is an understatement.”

“Really?” I hope she is. I want her to like me.

“Yeah. I hope you’re ready to get your ear talked off.”

“Absolutely.”

We lapse into silence again.

“I’m not going to apologize for what I did,” he says.

“What do you mean?”

“For conning you. I’m not going to apologize. So you shouldn’t expect it.”

“I don’t,” I say, telling the truth. He stops walking and that makes me stop, since we’re still linked.

He turns me to face him and pulls me close under an awning for a little bakery.

“I believe you,” he says, and I like hearing that. I really do.

“Good.”

He opens his mouth to say something else and changes his mind.

“I’m going to kiss you now and then I’m going to take you back to your apartment and fuck you. I hope you didn’t have other plans.”

My tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth and I can’t breathe for a second.

“N-no. I didn’t have other plans,” I stutter.

“Good,” he says, and then his lips descend on mine.

I feel like I haven’t kissed him in years, and it’s only been days. His kiss is both familiar and overwhelming. I always think I’m going to get used to kissing Sylas, but I never do. Each time I’m astonished by the touch of his mouth on mine.

He kisses me tentatively at first. He’s holding back and I’m having none of it. I get up on my tiptoes and wrap my arms around his neck. It’s times like this I wish he had longer hair that I could grab and hold onto. Maybe he’ll grow it out if I asked him to. He’d look even more attractive with long hair. Maybe too attractive. He’s already a walking sex bomb.

I’m the first one to open my mouth, and my tongue tries to invade his. He puts up a bit of a fight, but the more I try, the more his resolve crumbles. And then I’m in, stroking his delicious tongue with mine. He yanks me up against my chest and I’m pressed hard against him. I can’t breathe, but I don’t care. Sylas always tastes like mint and fresh rainwater. Cool and burning at the same time.

Abruptly, he breaks the kiss and I’m left gasping and clinging to him because my legs can no longer support me. My lipstick is smeared on his mouth and I love it. I love that I leave my mark on him whenever we’re together.