And that was it.The last resistance snapped like a thread pulled too tight.
I didn’t think.
Didn’t plan.
I reached up and kissed him with everything I’d been holding back.
It wasn’t fireworks.It was much quieter and deeper than that.
A slow, searching press of lips that said I see you and finally.
He hesitated for a heartbeat, one hand lifting to my cheek, thumb trembling slightly.The lemony cleaner and a hint of Syrah folded around me.
When we finally broke apart, neither of us spoke.
The only sound was the hum of the motel fridge and our uneven breathing.
He rested his forehead against mine.“You still haven’t answered.”
“I think I just did,” I whispered, closing my eyes.
A soft laugh came under his breath.
I pulled away first, the cool air rushing to take the place of Tristan’s warm hand.“Goodnight.”
Outside, the cooled air smelled faintly of fresh paint and dust as I shivered and stepped lightly to my room next door.I leaned against the inside of my door for a long second after it clicked shut.My pulse was still tachy, my lips tingled, but my brain flatlined.
In the quiet, I heard him moving in the next room and wondered what he was doing.It wasn’t long before the silence appeared.
And in that silence, a single thought occurred:
Oh goodness me.I shouldn’t have done that.I should’ve walked away.
But my body remembered something my life doesn’t have room for anymore.
Softness.
Heat.
Possibility.
