Her cheek rests against my shoulder, and my hand is spread across the small of her back beneath the loose fabric of my shirt.
The room is quiet again.
Too quiet.
“Was it the fire?” I ask.
She nods against me.
I close my eyes for a second.
“I kept trying to get out,” she whispers. “But every door opened into the same room.”
My grip tightens.
“You’re out.”
“I know.”
“You’re here.”
“I know.”
Her voice breaks on the last word.
I pull back enough to look at her.
Her hair is tangled from sleep. Her eyes are wet. My shirt has slipped lower on one shoulder, exposing a soft line of skin I have no business noticing right now.
My thumb moves beneath her eye and catches the beginning of a tear.
“You’re safe.”
She looks at me.
Something changes, and I feel it before I understand it.
Her gaze drops to my mouth.
Every muscle in my body locks.
“Kaia.”
She kisses me.
There is no warning.
One second I am holding her face, and the next her mouth is on mine, soft and warm and desperate enough to destroy me.
I should stop.
I know that.
I know it in the same distant part of my mind that knows fire needs oxygen and buildings fail when heat weakens the structure.
Then her fingers slide into my hair.
My control is gone.
