I gripped her waist, fingers sliding against that soft, pale sliver of skin I’d ached to touch only moments before.
Her breath stuttered against my lips, and I deepened the kiss just enough to let her know I wasn’t going anywhere unless she made me.
And then, just as fast as it started, she broke the kiss and took a step back.
She was breathing hard. We both were.
Her eyes widened like she couldn’t believe what she’d just done.
I didn’t move.
Didn’t speak.
Because this wasn’t about me, it was about her and what she needed from me right now.
Her fingers hovered near her mouth. “Shit,” she whispered.
Still, I waited. Silent.
And then, with her voice drifting away in the evening breeze. “That wasn’t supposed to happen.”
“Okay,” I said, voice steady. “But it did.”
She looked up at me, searching for something.
I didn’t offer her an answer. Or ask her what she wanted from me. Because if I did, she’d run away. I knew it.
Instead, I just reached out, tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, and said, “Do you want me to pretend it didn’t happen?”
Her eyes flashed. “No,” she said, voice shaking. “I don’t. I don’t want to pretend anymore. I meant that when I said it before.”
My heart knocked once against my ribs. Hard.
She was still close. Still looking at me like she might bolt or break, like she wasn’t sure which part of her would win.
I didn’t touch her. I let the moment hang, soft and open, until she made the choice again—stepping closer, right into my space, pressing a hand to my chest like she needed to feel my heartbeat before she could believe any of this was real.
“Tell me I’m not losing my mind,” she whispered.
“You’re not,” I said, my voice rough. “But if you are, I’ll go with you.”
“Tell me I won’t ruin everything and drive you away,” she pleaded. “I can’t lose you.”
“That would be impossible.”
That was all it took. She surged up again, kissed me harder this time—hotter, hungrier, like the dam had broken and she didn’t care about anything but getting her hands on me.
I groaned against her mouth and returned her kiss with everything I’d been holding back. My hand slid around her waist, pulling her in until her body hit mine and she gasped into the kiss, fingers tightening in my hoodie like she couldn’t get close enough.
She was warm and soft and real in my arms, and the way she kissed me—like she was starving, like she’d waited just as long as I had—undid something in me. Unlocked a piece of my heart that had always belonged only to her.
“Paige,” I murmured against her lips, letting my hand slide up her back to drift into her hair. “You’ve got to tell me when to stop.”
She shook her head, kissed me again. Then broke away, breathing hard.
“No,” she said, her voice trembling. “I don’t want to stop.”
My hands stilled on her hips as her eyes searched mine—wide, wild, a little scared, but absolutely sure.
