Everything Between Us by Mila Ferrera

them. Delicious and rich, I guess. The beaches themselves are rock, not sand. Miles of these smooth pebbles, and some of them are agates. It’s never crowded, so when you’re up there, it feels like you’re the only person in the world.”
    She shivers. I think Liza was wrong. Stella doesn’t want to be alone. In fact, I think it scares her. I hold her a little tighter.
    “What do you like about that?” she asks.
    “When I’m alone, it’s just me.”
    “And you don’t have to put on a show or try to control what people see,” she says quietly. “That must get tiring.”
    My heart jolts. How the fuck does she know? I thought she was bullshitting when she said she’d figured out my secret. It was a strange enough thing to say, but now I know that’s exactly what she did. I’ve never been afraid of a girl, but the one in my arms is the scariest creature I’ve ever met.
    “I’m sorry,” she says like she’s reading my fucking mind. “I didn’t mean to—”
    “It’s fine.”
    “Daniel …” She sounds nervous.
    I kiss her forehead. “No. You’re right.”
    “Is this a show?” she whispers.
    I tilt her face up to mine. It’s lit up by the moonlight, the planes of her cheeks luminous and lovely. “No, Stella.” Now who’s surrendering?
    Her fingers stroke my forehead and jaw, like she’s mapping out what the real me looks like, as though she can actually see the difference. Part of me wants to get up and get out of here, or make some stupid double-edged joke to make her blush, or do anything to raise the curtain again, to distract her, to make her not see. But the rest of me is paralyzed by her, like an insect under glass, pinned and helpless while she examines me. Her touch is silky and soft, rubbing the roughness on my cheeks before moving to the smoother skin beneath my eyes. This is the difference—when other women touch me, it’s foreplay. It’s the run-up to the big show, meant to get me hard and her wet. It’s focused on my chest, on my stomach, on my dick, and it’s delivered with the expectation of a return on the investment. It makes it easy to hide, because they don’t really look.
    Stella is taking me apart with her simple, innocent exploration of me .
    I catch her hand, because I have to stop her. I can’t let her strip me down. My thumb caresses the back of her hand as I lay her palm flat on my shoulder. Her big, dark eyes remain on my face, though, and slowly, she stretches up and kisses my jaw, her warm lips lingering, claiming her victory. “Thank you,” she murmurs before sinking back into the crook of my neck. Her arm tightens around my waist, and she snuggles in.
    I am so acutely aware of her that I know the moment sleep drags her under. I sit there in the dark, the white moon gleaming off Stella’s hair, which is spread over the arm of the chaise. Her body is stretched loose along mine, and like we’re one creature, I breathe with her; I feel her heart beat against my chest. It makes me sleepy, too, but my fear keeps me awake. I’ve just offered Stella the cannon to blow through my walls. Hell, I’ve lowered the drawbridge and invited her in.
    What happens if she doesn’t like what she finds?

Chapter Eight: Stella
    I wake from a dream of walking through the snow with Daniel to discover his fingers are twined with mine. We’re in the nest. He must have carried me back here after I fell asleep, but I’m not sure how he managed it, because I’m such a light sleeper. I arch my back and stretch, noticing how warm it is in here. The heat is on. We have power again.
    Which means he’ll leave soon, and this will be over.
    His grip is firm, even though he seems to be deeply asleep. Does that mean something, or is it just an impersonal, reflexive thing? He’s on his back with his arm slung over his face, blocking out the light. Without pulling my hand from his, I prop myself on an elbow and watch him. Yesterday, he kissed me. He touched me in a way that lit a fire