Her fingertips brushed lightly over his chest, testing, almost as if she expected him to disappear. Warmth met her immediately, solid and real, and something inside her eased without permission.
She let her hand drift, tracing along his arm, following the line of muscle beneath his skin. Therewas strength there—undeniable yet controlled. The kind that could do damage if it wanted to.
But it hadn’t. Not to her. Not once.
Even earlier, he’d held nothing back and still taken care with her, every touch deliberate, every moment shared, not taken. He’d made her feel… valued. Wanted.
Cherished.
Something she hadn’t realized she’d been missing until now.
Her fingers stilled, that thought sinking in deeper than she expected. It should have comforted her. Instead, it left her off balance in a way she didn’t understand.
Because it would be so easy to trust him.
Too easy.
Her gaze dropped to where his hand rested against her side. Even in sleep, he held her close, like letting go wasn’t something he planned to do. Like she belonged exactly where she was.
The thought came without warning.
Belonged.
Her throat tightened.
She drew in a slow breath, trying to push that word away, but it lingered, settling deeper than she wanted. She couldn’t stay. She didn’t have thatluxury. Staying meant being found and risking both their lives—and she couldn’t let that happen.
And yet…
Her thumb brushed absently over his skin, a quiet, repetitive motion she didn’t fully register at first. Warmth met her touch, smooth over hard muscle, the contrast making her more aware of him, not less. He didn’t stir. Didn’t tighten his hold or pull away. He stayed there, solid and certain, like he trusted her as much as she was beginning to trust him.
The realization didn’t ease anything.
If anything, it made it worse.
Because this wasn’t just about wanting him anymore—that part had been obvious hours ago, undeniable and impossible to ignore. This was something deeper, something that reached past the physical and into a part of her she couldn’t afford to let anyone touch—not when it would put them in danger.
Her gaze drifted back to his face, taking in the details she hadn’t allowed herself to linger on before. The faint shadow of stubble along his jaw. The way his hair fell slightly across his forehead. The quiet rise and fall of his chest beneath her hand.
She let her fingers move again, slowerthis time, brushing lightly over his arm, then up toward his bare shoulder. The motion was almost absentminded, but each pass made something inside her shift a little more, soften in ways she didn’t trust.
The unfamiliarity of it caught her off guard. Not the closeness—but how easily she’d let it happen. How quickly she’d wanted it.
KC’s arm tightened slightly in his sleep, a subtle adjustment that drew her closer instead of pushing her away. Her fingers curled lightly against him, holding on while trying not to wake him.
This was dangerous. Not because of him. Because of what he made her feel.
Her gaze shifted toward the window, watching the pale moonlight spill across the floor and the faint movement of the curtains in the breeze. Outside, the ocean continued its steady rhythm, unchanged, constant.
But everything else felt like it was shifting.
She pressed her lips together, forcing herself to think past the moment. Morning would come. Reality would follow. Decisions she didn’t want to make would be waiting for her, whether she was ready or not.
She couldn’t stay here forever.
Couldn’t stay with him.
The truth of that sat heavily in her chest, even as her body refused to move away.
