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I froze, even as my pulse spiked and my breath caught in my chest. Alessio, the last person I’d expected to see, stood on my doorstep, and for a moment I thought I was imagining him. The way his hair was slightly windblown. His t-shirt molding to every muscle of his chest and dotted with the light sprinkles falling down on him. The fit of his jeans, low on his hips.
It was his eyes, though, that held my attention, because there wasn’t anger or accusation in them like there had been hours ago. Instead, they were sharp and burning with something dangerously close to resolve…and need.
Relief and fear crashed through me, and I was terrified to admit even to myself which was winning out.
“You shouldn’t be here,” I said, because the words were familiar and I didn’t trust myself to say anything else.
“I tried not to be,” he replied quietly. “I really did.”
All I could do was stare, unable to speak, not caring about how he’d gotten past the locked gates. He was here.
Alessio took a step toward me, sending my pulse skyrocketing.
“You want me to forget,” he said. “To move on. To pretend this doesn’t exist. But I can’t do that, Rafael. And neither can you.”
My entire body went up in flames and I swallowed.
“This—” I choked on my words and tried again. “This ends with you hurt.”
“It already did,” he said. “I survived.”
The words landed heavier than any accusation could. Surviving wasn’t living, and I’d done this to him. To us.
“So this”—Alessio’s voice dropped lower as the rain began to fall harder, soaking through his shirt and making it close to impossible not to touch him—“is my hail Mary.”
#ellafrank #brookeblaine #mmromance @theauthor.agenda
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