And maybe she felt it too, because she looked at him and her breath caught.
But if he kissed her now, well, maybe that’s exactly what whoever might be tracking them needed. For him to get distracted. Unguarded.
He looked away.
She did too.
But something chilly landed between them.Oh, no—the last thing he wanted was for her to think he was pushing her away.
Before he could think better of it, he was turning to her, touching her cheek, moving her gaze to meet his. “Nim. I would really love to kiss you right now. But I’m terrified of losing you. I can’t let myself get distracted by what I want when I need to keep you alive first.”
“Whatdoyou want?” The question came out breathless.
Everything. Forever. You.
But he could tell she wasn’t ready for that level of honesty. Maybe he wasn’t either.
His whole life had been about charging full speed at whatever grabbed his interest. Maybe it was time to take things one step at a time.
He leaned forward, pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. “I want to get through this together. Then ask you on a proper date.”
She looked up at him and smiled softly. “I’d like that.”
Yes.
He pulled back, standing to check the rain. And maybe put distance between him and his terrible desire to kiss her.
The rain still bulleted the ground, tiny rivulets becoming channels of water running along the canyon. A mist rose from the earth, turning the world ethereal. “Eat something. We’ll move when this lets up.”
And then…then they’d keep running.
Because he couldn’t shake the feeling they were almost out of time.
Noah’s Jeep rumbled into his usual spot, engine growling like his mood.
Pathetic.
That’s what he’d called himself last night—along with a few other choice names.
And now he’d only made it worse. He took in his reflection in the rearview mirror and flinched.
What had he been thinking?
The short hair—buzzed to military precision on the sides after his kitchen-scissors disaster—made him look like a stranger. At least the barber had been able to save five or six inches on top. But his clean-shaven jaw felt naked, exposed in a way that had nothing to do with the morning chill.
He’d planned to shower and crash after yesterday’s chaos with the injured kid. Simple plan. But Eden’s jab about his “Sasquatch” appearance had worked its way under his skin like a splinter. A hairorist? Really?
And then she’d mentioned Eddie.
Eddie.Flirting with Meg.
Next thing he knew, he was hacking away with kitchen shears like some deranged barber. Thirty minutes later, his head looked like he’d stuck his finger in an electrical socket. The emergency barber run at eleven p.m. had salvaged what it could, but the damage was done.
Exposed. Vulnerable.
Everything he’d sworn he wouldn’t be again.
He’d even chickened out of coffee with Meg this morning. Sent some lame text about being tired.Real smooth, Noah.Two years of building a friendship, and he was hiding like a teenager with a bad haircut.
