Page 154 of Knot What I Expected

Before Matteo.

Before running.

Before fear became the background noise of my entire life.

But now? Letting someone touch me feels frighteningly close to letting them matter.

And the truth? Rowan already matters.

That's the part I don't want to examine too closely.

He reaches toward me, then stops before touching my face.

“Tell me what you need.”

My heart stutters. Nobody asks me that.

They ask what I can do.

What I can give.

What I owe.

What they need from me.

But what I need?

I swallow against the sudden thickness in my throat.

“I don’t know.”

“That’s okay.”

His hand is still hovering near my cheek. Waiting.

I close my eyes and lean into it.

The instant his palm touches me, something inside me exhales. His hand is huge.

Rough.

Warm.

And impossibly gentle.

I turn my face slightly into his palm.

Rowan makes a sound so low I feel it more than hear it.

When I open my eyes, the hunger in his nearly knocks me backward. But he still doesn’t move.

Still waits. For me.

Maybe that's what decides it. Not the muscles. Not the tattoos. Not the gorgeous Viking thing he has going on. Not even the Wolf.

The choice.

Mine.