The room goes very still.
She blinks once.
Twice.
Like she’s trying to make sure she heard me right.
Then she whispers, “Ace…”
I slide my fingers gently under her chin and lift her face a little higher.
“You matter,” I repeat.
This time, she doesn’t look away.
I see everything move across her face—fear, hope, disbelief, want.
Then she leans in and kisses me.
Slowly.
No panic.
No desperation.
Just her.
And God, that’s somehow worse on my control than anything else.
I kiss her back with the same care, letting it build instead of taking. My hand slides into her hair. Hers curls into my shirt again, only this time it isn’t because she’s scared.
This time it feels like need.
She shifts closer, turning toward me fully, and I move with her until she’s half in my lap and I’m bracing her against me like she belongs there.
The kiss deepens.
Warms.
Her mouth softens beneath mine and then opens on a shaky breath, and that sound nearly wrecks me.
I pull back just enough to look at her.
Her lips are kiss-swollen. Her breathing uneven. Her eyes dark and searching and so damn beautiful I have to lock my jaw not to lose my mind.
“Tell me to stop,” I say.
Her hand slides up the back of my neck.
“I don’t want you to stop.”
Every muscle in my body tightens.
I search her face one more time.
Making sure.
Making damn sure.
