“No buts.”
He brushes his thumbs across my cheeks.
“This?” He nods toward the paper. “This is personal now, and I swear to God, I'm gonna fix it.”
“You don't have to fix it, Kai,” I whisper. “But... you're not mad at me?”
“Mad?” His eyebrows shoot up. “At you? Never. Come here.”
He moves, pulling me up and then he takes my chair and tugs me down, onto his lap.
Then, he kisses me.
Just like that—my nerves calm.
And I don't know what to do because I like this man.
No.
More than like.
Kissing him feels like breathing.
Like something essential.
I need it.
Need him.
But we haven't had the big conversations.
Haven't put names on this.
And suddenly this problem feels bigger than whatever we are.
“Kai…”
He rests his forehead against mine.
“Listen to me, Mary Donahue.”
His voice is low.
Steady.
“I don't know where you're getting all these crazy ideas, but I need you to hear me.”
I swallow.
“Okay.”
“I'm in this with you.”
My heart skips.
“And I know it's probably too soon to say all the things running around in my head, and my heart, so I won't. Not yet. Not until you’re ready to hear them.”
Something warm unfurls inside my chest.
