Nobody spoke.
Because she wasn’t wrong.
Her breathing had gone uneven now, emotion creeping into every word whether she wanted it to or not.
“I’m tired,” she whispered. “I’m so tired.”
Something inside me twisted hard enough to hurt.
Because I believed her.
Every second of it.
I stepped closer before I even realized I’d moved.
Felicity looked up at me immediately.
And there it was again.
That pull.
That history.
That ache sitting between us like sixteen years had never happened.
“You’re safe here,” I told her quietly.
Her eyes burned instantly.
Not because she fully believed me yet.
Because she wanted to.
That was the dangerous part.
Michael glanced between us slowly.
Then toward me.
“You got room upstairs?”
“Yeah.”
Felicity immediately shook her head. “No.”
I frowned. “No?”
“I can get a hotel.”
“Absolutely not,” both Trigger and I said together.
She blinked at us.
Trigger pointed toward me. “He’s already in full protective psycho mode. Don’t make it worse.”
I ignored him.
Mostly.
