If this were real.
The question unlocks something inside me. "Jennifer Walsh," I begin, voice rougher than intended. "Before you, my life was ordered. Predictable. Safe. You swept in like a hurricane, disrupting everything I thought I wanted. You filled my quiet spaces with laughter. My empty rooms with color. My careful routine with spontaneity."
I pause, suddenly aware I'm speaking truths disguised as fiction. But I can't seem to stop.
"You make me want things I gave up on years ago. You make me believe that maybe the best parts of life aren't found insolitude but in sharing. In letting someone see the broken pieces and the healing scars and loving them anyway."
Her eyes widen slightly, lips parting in surprise.
"I don't know what the future holds," I continue, the words coming from somewhere deep and honest. "But I know it's brighter with you in it. And if you'll have me, scars and all, I promise to try to be worthy of the light you bring."
Silence falls between us, heavy with things unsaid. Her eyes shine suspiciously bright. My heart pounds against my ribs.
"Jared," she whispers. "That was beautiful."
"Just playing the part," I say, but we both know it's a lie.
She reaches up, her palm gentle against my cheek, thumb brushing lightly over my scar. "Are you?"
Everything narrows to this moment. Her touch on my face. The question in her eyes. The diminishing space between us as she leans forward.
"No," I admit. "I'm not."
Her smile is slow and sweet. "Good. Neither am I."
I'm not sure who moves first. Maybe we both do. But suddenly her lips are on mine, soft and warm and perfect. The kiss is gentle at first, questioning. When I don't pull away, her fingers slide into my hair, drawing me closer.
Something breaks loose in my chest. Years of carefully constructed walls crumbling in an instant. I wrap an arm around her waist, pulling her against me, deepening the kiss. She makes a small sound of approval that vibrates through my entire body.
She tastes like the hot chocolate she had earlier, sweet and rich. Her body is soft and warm against mine, fitting perfectly. One kiss blends into another, each more heated than the last. Her hands explore my shoulders, my chest. Mine trace the curve of her spine, the softness of her waist.
When we finally break apart, we're both breathing hard. Her cheeks are flushed, lips slightly swollen. She looks dazed and beautiful and completely kissable.
"That was..." she starts.
"Yeah," I agree.
"We should probably talk about it."
"Probably."
Neither of us moves. Her hands still rest on my chest. Mine remain at her waist.
"Or," she says, eyes dropping to my mouth again. "We could continue the practical application and discuss theory later."
The suggestion sends heat spiraling through me. "Practical application sounds good."
This time when our lips meet, there's no hesitation. Just heat and hunger and need. I pull her onto my lap, earning a gasp that turns into a soft moan as I trail kisses down her neck. Her fingers tangle in my hair, guiding me back to her mouth.
"Jared," she murmurs against my lips. "What are we doing?"
"I don't know." It's the honest answer. I have no idea where this leads or what comes next. All I know is I want her in a way that terrifies me. "Do you want to stop?"
"God no." She presses her forehead to mine. "But maybe we should slow down. Figure out what this is before we get carried away."
She's right. This is already complicated enough without adding physical intimacy to the mix. I reluctantly loosen my hold on her, allowing space between us.
"I wasn't expecting this," she admits. "You. This attraction. These feelings."
