“I just...” Cal's voice went quieter. “I hope there's room in that space. For this. For us.”
I lifted my head to look at him properly. His jaw was tight again, vulnerability written across his features.
“Because I don't know how to go back.” The words came rough, like they cost him something. “To before. To not having you in my life.”
His hand came up to cup my cheek, thumb brushing along my cheekbone.
“You're sobright, Rosie. You walk into a room and everything shifts. People smile. The air changes. You make everything better just by being there.” His eyes searched mine. “And I cannot wrap my head around someone wanting to dim that.”
My breath caught.
“It's like...” He shook his head slowly. “Like looking at the sun and deciding it should be less bright. Like telling a wildflower to tone down its colors because they're too bold. It doesn't make sense.”
“Cal—”
“You're chaos and joy and determination all wrapped up together.” His thumb traced my lower lip. “And somehow, impossibly, you looked at me—atme, the guy who keeps everyone at arm's length—and decided I was worth your time.”
Tears pricked my eyes.
“So yeah.” His voice dropped lower. “I really hope there's space for me in whatever you're building. Because I'm already in too deep to pretend otherwise.”
I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Could only stare at him as his words settled into my chest like something warm and permanent.
I kissed him.
His breath hitched against my mouth. Then his hand slid into my hair, cradling the back of my head, and he kissed me back like I was something precious.
Slow. Deliberate. Like we had all the time in the world.
I shifted closer, my hand sliding up his chest to curl around his neck. His other arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me against him until there was no space left between us.
When we finally broke apart, breathless and dizzy, Cal rested his forehead against mine.
“Just so we're clear.” I pulled back enough to meet his eyes. “There's a lot of space. For you. In whatever I'm building.”
His smile was slow and devastating. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I traced the line of his jaw with my fingertips, marveling at how natural it felt. “More space than I probably should admit after a kiss.”
“Two kisses.”
“Two very good kisses.” I grinned. “But still. I'm supposed to be figuring myself out. Not jumping into something new.”
“We could go slow.” His thumb traced circles on my lower back, sending shivers up my spine. “Take our time.”
“Slow sounds smart.”
“It's responsible.”
“Exactly.” I tilted my head to look at him properly. His hair was mussed from my fingers, his eyes soft in the moonlight. “Except I don't think I can go slow.”
His breath hitched. “No?”
“No.” I bit my lip, feeling heat creep up my neck. “I've spent three years being careful. Second-guessing everything. And now I'm here with you, and it's the first thing that's felt right in forever, and I don't want to be careful about it.”
Cal's eyes darkened. “Rosie?—”
“I know that's probably not what you want to hear. We should take our time, be smart, not rush into anything.” The words tumbled out faster now. “But I'm tired of being smart. Smart got me nowhere good.”
