Page 95 of The One Who Never Left: Colter

She shivered.

Colter noticed immediately, his hands sliding down her arms, grounding, steady. “You cold?”

“No,” she said honestly. “Nervous.”

He searched her face, softening. “There’s still time to change your mind.”

That—right there—did something to her. The way he offered an out, giving her the pace she needed without expectation. The way he meant it and the fact that he was choosing her pace instead of pushing his own made heat curl low in her stomach.

“No,” she said again, firmer this time. “My head’s just scrambled. Mostly by your smile.”

His mouth tipped into that smile—warm, crooked and so addictive she craved it—and butterflies took flight in her chest.

“Someone reminded me tonight,” she went on, breathless now. “That instead of doing what everyone expects, I should do something for myself.”

“And what do you want to do?” he asked, teasing just enough to make her pulse spike.

She loved this version of him—relaxed and unguarded, fully and completely present. She hadn’t realized how long it had been since she’d really seen him like this. The last time had been breakfast at Miss Kitty’s.

“You,” she said. “I want to do you.”

Colter kissed her like he’d been holding back all night, one hand sliding to her cheek, the other pulling her close, sealing her to him. The world tipped. Her thoughts scattered. Everything narrowed to his mouth and the way he kissed like he meant it.

“Inside,” he murmured against her lips. “Before I lose my mind out here.”

“Inside works,” she breathed.

She fumbled for the door, and they stumbled in together, laughing softly as they bumped into walls and furniture, unable—or unwilling—to put space between them. When she tripped, his hand was already there, steadying her, holding her like he always would.

“Obstacle course,” he murmured.

“Temporary.”

“Then let’s get rid of the layers,” he said, voice rough, hands warm and confident as they worked together to shrug off her coat. When it finally hit the floor, his hands slid over her back, her hips, reverent and appreciative.

He kissed her like it was something to savor, not to rush, but slow, deep, and intentional.

After a moment, he pulled back just enough to look at her, flicking on the light and taking her in fully. His gaze was unfiltered, appreciative and quite possibly a little awed.

“Seeing you like this…”

She shook her head, laughing under her breath. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”

His eyes darkened as he stepped close enough that she could feel the heat rolling off him, close enough that backing away would’ve taken real effort.

“This,” he said, one hand lifting, stopping just short of touching her. “The way you look at me when you stop pretending you don’t want this. The way you’re standing there like you’re daring me to make the next move.”

Her breath hitched. “Colter⁠—”

“I know,” he cut in, quieter now but no less intense. “Believe me, I fucking know all the reasons we shouldn’t. I’ve memorized them.”

“And yet,” she said, barely a whisper.

“And yet,” he agreed, his mouth curving into a smile that was all heat and no humor. “Here we are.”

The silence between them pulsed, and when he finally reached for her, it felt less like a decision and more like surrender.

No one had ever looked at her the way Colter was looking at her now. Not like she was something to hurry through or turn the lights off for. Not like she was familiar or expected or easy. He looked at her like she was a revelation—like he was cataloging every inch, committing her to memory, savoring instead of rushing.