I kissed her—deep, slow, tasting the salt at the corner of her eye. “I’m looking at you now,” I said against her mouth. “And I’m never going to stop. You have me. You’ve always had me.”
She wrapped her legs around my waist, heels digging into my lower back, urging me closer, deeper. I moved with her—long, lazy thrusts, each one drawing a quiet moan from her throat. Our mouths stayed locked together; we kissed through every slow glide, tongues sliding in the same rhythm as our bodies, breathing each other’s air.
Her hands slid up to cradle my face. “Look at me,” she breathed again.
I did. Held her gaze as I rocked into her—slow, steady, deliberate. Her eyes were wide open, shimmering, full of everything she wasn’t saying out loud yet. Trust. Fear. Hope. All of it laid bare.
“I’m right here,” I whispered, voice cracking. “I’ve got you. I’m not letting go.”
She tightened around me, breath hitching. I felt her start to tremble, felt the flutter of her inner muscles as she climbed. I kept the pace even, deep, letting her chase it at her own speed. When she came, it was quiet—back arching, a soft, broken sound against my mouth, pulsing around me in waves that pulled me over the edge with her. I buried myself deep, groaning her name low and rough, spilling into the condom as she clung to me, nails pressing half-moons into my shoulders.
“Hey,” I whispered, brushing them away with my thumbs. “What’s this?”
She gave a shaky laugh. “I don’t know. I just… I feel so much. Too much. Like everything I’ve been holding back for years is finally coming out, and I’m scared it’s going to break me open.”
I pressed my forehead to hers. “Then break. I’ll catch every piece.”
She closed her eyes, a fresh tear slipping free. “I’ve never felt this safe,” she whispered. “Not in years. Not ever.”
My throat closed. I kissed her—slow, reverent, tasting salt and chamomile and everything we’d waited years to give each other. When I pulled back, my own eyes were wet.
“You are safe,” I said, voice rough.
She smiled through the tears and pulled me down until I was half on top of her, half beside her, still inside her, still connected. We stayed like that, skin on skin, breathing together, hearts slowing in tandem.
Eventually, I eased out gently, tied off the condom, and dropped it in the small trash bin by the bed. I pulled her back into my arms. She nestled against me, cheek over my heart again, fingers tracing lazy patterns on my chest once more.
I stayed awake, listening to her breathing even out, feeling the steady rise and fall of her ribs against my side, the quiet river outside.
Tomorrow, things might change. But right now, in this small trailer with Becca in my arms and the world held safely at bay, everything was exactly as it should be.
I pressed one last kiss to her hair, closed my eyes, and let sleep take me too.
Chapter 30
Becca
“Somebody said in Sweetbriar that things are going to change. I say they don’t have to.”
Iset up the equipment. Laptop open. External mic plugged in, the little green light blinking its patient readiness. Voice disguiser loaded, settings checked, and then, for the first time, I looked at the settings for a long moment and closed the application without enabling it.
I sat with that for a second. Then I opened a new audio profile and left it clean. My voice. Just my voice, unaltered, the way it actually sounded in the actual world. The way Levi had heard it across a kitchen counter and a campfire and a porch railing in the dark.
If I were going to do this, I was going to do it as myself.
Levi was on the small couch behind me. I could hear him breathing. I could feel his attention, that steady, unhurried focus he brought to everything, and it was both grounding and slightly unnerving. Probably because I wasn’t used to this kind of focus. On me.
“You don’t have to hover like my personal bodyguard,” I said, keeping my voice low so it wouldn’t crack.
Levi didn’t move an inch. “I’m not hovering. I’m strategically positioned.”
“Six feet is strategic?”
“Very. Gives me the optimal view of you pretending you’re not nervous.”
I shot him a look over my shoulder. “I’m not nervous. I’m focused.”
“You’ve got this. You know you do. I’m proud of you, you know. So damn proud.”
