Kaz shrugs, but it’s not casual. “Didn’t know how to leave anymore.”
I sit up slow, the ache in my ribs blooming as I move. “I wanted to tell you.”
“I know.”
I look away.
“I was scared,” I say. “Not just of you being angry. I was scared you wouldn’t believe me. Or that you’d come back and want to fix it all like it was easy. And it’s not. It’s never been.”
He nods, quiet for a second. “I blamed you. At first. But it wasn’t just you. I left. That’s on me.”
“You were ordered off-world,” I say, sharper than I mean to. “Iremember. Swan’s crash. The coverup. The mission. All of it.”
Kaz swallows. His jaw flexes. “I should’ve fought harder to come back.”
I glance at Dar.
“You came back when it mattered.”
Silence stretches between us.
Comfortable.
He breaks it with a small smile. “He’s stubborn.”
“Like you.”
“Snorts when he laughs.”
“Yousnort when you laugh.”
Kaz grins wider. “I do not.”
I raise a brow.
He tries to deny it again, but then I giggle. Full on. And he just gives in, chuckling under his breath.
And gods, Imissedthis. The ease. The air between us not being razor-sharp and full of what-ifs.
We sit there, watching Dar sleep.
I lean in.
He meets me halfway.
The kiss is slow. Deep. Not rushed like before. No urgency. No rage between our teeth.
Just heat. And safety.
It starts soft.
My hands on his jaw.
His fingers trailing the curve of my waist.
The bed shifts under us, but we barely notice. Dar’s in his little nest of blankets, undisturbed.
Kaz lays me down like I’m something sacred. Like I might vanish.
