Page 43 of Challenged By the Mountain Man

"Not too much?"

"Perfect," I finally manage. "It was perfect."

Something in his expression softens, and he leans down to kiss me, gentle this time, tender, so different from the raw intensity of moments before.

When he finally pulls out, we both wince at the sensitivity. He rolls to the side, pulling me with him, tucking me against his chest with one arm wrapped around my waist.

We lie there in the firelight, both of us still catching our breath, and I realize I've never felt safer in my life than I do right now, naked and sated in the arms of a man I barely know.

"Thank you," I whisper.

"Stop thanking me," he says, but there's no heat in it.

"Never."

He huffs something that might be a laugh and pulls me closer. And for the first time in three weeks, maybe for the first time in years, I feel like I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be.

Chapter 10 - Griffin

Eight years.

Eight years of isolation, of convincing myself that I'm better off alone. That the mountain is the only place I can breathe without feeling like I'm drowning in the weight of everything I've lost.

And now I'm lying here with a woman I met forty-eight hours ago, her body warm and soft against mine, her breathing already evening out into sleep, and I'm wondering how the hell I'm supposed to let her leave in twelve days.

The fire crackles in the stove, casting dancing shadows across the cabin walls. Outside, the wind moves through the trees with a sound like the ocean. Everything is exactly as it should be: quiet, peaceful, isolated.

Except it's not just me anymore.

Hannah shifts slightly, her hand moving to rest on my chest, right over my heart. Her fingers are small and delicate against my scarred skin, and I can feel the phantom weight of everything that just happened between us.

I took her virginity.

The thought should probably scare me more than it does. Should make me feel guilty for being so goddamn selfish, for not sending her away the second I realized how drawn to her I was. But I can't regret it. Can't regret the way she looked at me like I was something other than broken. Can't regret the sounds she made or the way she felt around me or the trust in her eyes when she said she was sure.

What does this mean?

Is she my savior? The thought is ridiculous. I don't believe in saviors or soulmates or any of that romantic bullshit. I believe in survival. In taking each day as it comes. In not expecting anything from anyone because expectations only lead to disappointment.

But lying here with her, feeling her heartbeat against my ribs, I'm starting to wonder if maybe I've been wrong. Maybe there are people who come into your life and change everything. Maybe there are connections that defy logic, timelines and all the reasons you've built for keeping people at arm's length.

Maybe she's mine.

The thought should disturb me. We've known each other two days. Two fucking days. That's not enough time to build anything real, anything lasting. That's barely enough time to learn someone's last name, let alone decide you can't imagine your life without them in it.

But here I am, already trying to figure out how to ask her to stay.

Can I even do that? Can I ask someone who came here to escape, to heal, to trade her two weeks of peace for a life on this mountain with a man who wakes up screaming half the time? A man whose idea of social interaction is a monthly trip to town for supplies? A man who's so fundamentally broken that he chose to live like a hermit rather than inflict himself on the world?

She deserves better than that.

She deserves someone who can take her to dinner without having a panic attack at the noise. Someone who doesn't have nightmares about watching his friends die. Someone who isn't carrying eight years of self-imposed isolation like a fucking badge of honor.

But even knowing that, I can't bring myself to pull away. Can't bring myself to start building the walls back up that she somehow demolished in less than two days.

Would I be willing to change for her?

The question sits heavy in my chest. Change how? Give up the mountain? Move back to civilization where every loud noise sets my teeth on edge and every crowd feels like a threat? I don't know if I can do that. Don't know if I'm capable of being the person she needs me to be.