The urge is almost overwhelming.
I shouldn’t have allowed that to happen.
It was a line that never should have been crossed.
The real danger isn’t the kiss itself. It’s knowing exactly what she tastes like, and realizing I don’t trust myself to stop at just that.
19
Kia
I lie on my back and stare up at the ceiling, listening to the quiet creep in around me. Every time I close my eyes, the memory of Laiken’s mouth drifting over mine replays behind my eyelids. None of the kisses I’ve experienced up to this point have felt like that. It was slow and teasing, making me crave more.
I’m not even sure how it happened. One minute, I was offering comfort and support for everything he’s going through, and the next, his lips were on mine. As much as I want to pretend it didn’t happen, that’s not possible. It’s like ignoring a crack in the foundation and hoping the house doesn’t collapse around you. I can already feel the weight of it pressing down on me, the knowledge that things like this don’t simply disappear because you want them to.
The shocked way he looked at me afterward tells me everything I need to know about the situation. Whatever he felt in that moment, regret eclipsed it almost immediately.
Unsure what to do after he disappeared down the hallway, I’d stayed put and waited, wondering if he’d come back and want to talk about what happened.
He didn’t.
I’m afraid of what this lapse in judgment could cost me.
This job is the only stable thing I have right now. The one solid piece of ground under my feet. Losing it would mean more than the loss of a paycheck. It would take away my new sense of security and the delicate balance I’ve worked so hard to find.
I roll onto my side, then onto my back again, restless and wound tight with nerves. It doesn’t take long to realize that sleep isn’t going to come easily. The weight of responsibility presses in from every direction—Elody, this job, my future, and the quiet truth growing heavier inside my body.
Eventually, I stop pretending and sit up, drawing my knees to my chest. I can’t undo what happened with Laiken, but I can own it. Just a simple heartfelt apology with a promise that it’ll never happen again. That I understand the boundaries along with the need for them. I’m not here to further complicate his life.
Hopefully, that’ll be enough to rectify the situation. And then we can put the kiss behind us and move forward as if it never happened.
Decision made, I throw off the covers and pad across the hallway. His door isn’t quite closed, standing ajar an inch or two. I hesitate, lifting my hand to knock. Before I’m able to do it, a sound slips through the crack. A sharp inhale and then something garbled followed by a thump.
“Laiken?” I whisper, pushing the door open just enough to see inside.
Moonlight spills across the bed, painting everything in shades of silver and shadow. It doesn’t take long for my eyes to adjust and find Laiken tangled in the covers. His brow is furrowed as he shakes his head. His hand fists the sheet as his chest rises and falls in quick, uneven breaths.
Unsure what to do, I step closer and notice he’s trembling.
“Laiken,” I say again, louder this time, moving farther inside his bedroom. “Hey. You’re dreaming. Wake up.”
I beeline to the bed and settle on the edge before reaching for his arm. His bare skin is hot to the touch.
“Wake up,” I murmur. “It’s okay. You’re safe.”
The moment I shake him, his eyelids fly open and his hand snaps out, gripping my wrist. In the next heartbeat, he rolls, taking me with him until I’m flat on my back, his heavy weight pinning me against the mattress as he looms over me, breathing harshly.
I freeze. “Laiken, it’s me. Kia.”
His eyes remain unfocused as his grip tightens. I have no idea if my voice is enough to penetrate the fog surrounding him. His body quakes like he’s bracing for impact.
“Laiken,” I repeat. “You’re okay. Wake up.”
It’s a relief when his brow furrows. “Kia?” My name comes out sounding hoarse, and he blinks, as if surfacing from deep water.
My tongue darts out to moisten my lips. “Yeah, it’s me.”
Reality settles over his expression in slow increments. Once recognition hits, his grip loosens and he pushes himself up, putting space between us.
