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I nodded slowly. “Sometimes they do,” I finally said.

“I lost a friend.” She paused. “She betrayed my trust horribly, and I think about it.” I turned her hand over in mine, giving a reassuring squeeze, because I could feel the subtle tremor running through her. “Now… I know that sometimes you trust people and you find out it was never worth it. Maybe someday I’ll tell you what happened. I’m not there yet,” she said.

I felt my lips curl in a soft smile as I held her gaze. “Fair. Baby steps, right?”

Her smile widened. “Yes. Baby steps.”

“Okay.” She drained the last of her hot cocoa a moment later. “I think that’s enough heaviness for one night. Should we try to go back to bed?”

The minute she said “we” and “bed” in the same breath, my mind conjured up an image of us together that was not chaste in the slightest. “Sure,” I heard myself say, my voice a little ragged.

I followed her lead when she stood from the table, and we each lifted our mugs. She might as well have had a string attached to me as I followed her out of the office, down the hallway, and into the kitchen. There was no reason for me to follow her all the way, but I did, because that invisible string pulled me along in her wake.

After she rinsed the mugs and set them in the drying rack, she turned around. I was simply standing there, feeling almost foolish. She curled her hands on the edge of the counter, clearing her throat.

Before I knew it, I stepped closer, until I was standing immediately in front of her.

“Lincoln,” she whispered.

“Chloe,” I whispered back.

There was maybe an inch between us and I could feel the heat of her presence. My eyes dropped to her mouth and I tore my gaze upward again. “I want to kiss you.”

She blinked before nodding, just barely.

I dipped my head. The moment our lips met, it was nothing more than a brief brushing touch to start. And yet, I could have sworn electricity sparked between our lips. She let out this soft sound and what started as just a kiss ignited. I fit my mouth over hers, sliding my hand into her hair, and when she whimpered into our kiss, my mind went blank.

For the first time in a long time, the flood of sensation and need washed away the darkness inside me.

Chapter Seven

Chloe

Entirely Lincoln’s fault

I was plastered against Lincoln, his hard, muscled body solid and warm against every inch of me. I couldn’t get close enough. I was breathing him in, our tongues tangling together. Sweet hell.

I’d never had a kiss like this in my life. This man just took over my mouth completely. Deep sips, drawing back, nipping at my bottom lip with his teeth. Hot kisses at the corners of my mouth before diving back in again. My entire body felt like liquid heat made of need and lava and pure want so fierce and so intense I almost couldn’t withstand it.

When we finally broke apart, I stared into his eyes, rasping in wonder and shock, “Lincoln…”

I honestly couldn’t recall clearly what happened next. We walked down the hallway together, but the whole time I felt like I was in a haze. My knees were wobbly. My pulse was racing so fast I could hardly catch my breath. I had no memory of what I said when I reached the door to my suite, but whatever it was, it had to be awkward.

Once I closed the door, I leaned against it, my back sliding slowly down until my bottom hit the floor. I sat there, trying to gather some sanity and get my hormones under control. For all I knew, Lincoln stood on the other side of that door and heard me slide down it. That thought alone was enough to make my cheeks burn all over again.

I managed to stand finally, my legs still a little wobbly, feeling genuinely stunned. What the hell had Lincoln’s kiss done to me?

I caught my reflection in the bathroom mirror a moment later. “This,” I informed myself with great conviction, “is entirely Lincoln Silver’s fault. All of it.”

My reflection, unhelpfully, stared back at me with pink cheeks, kiss-swollen lips and wide eyes that looked absolutely nothing like someone who had things under control. My body felt like it was humming, heat pinwheeling through me, every nerve ending sparking. I took several deep breaths, splashed cold water on my face, ran my hands under it long enough to slightly cool the heat blazing through me.

After that, I changed into my usual sleep outfit, an old t-shirt and a pair of fitted little shorts in hot pink. I loved pink. Completely, unapologetically loved it. It was my signature color. I snorted to myself at that thought as I crawled into bed a few minutes later, flicked the lights off, and stared up at the stars on the ceiling.

Someone had put constellations on all the ceilings in the bedrooms. Tommy had told me he had fond memories of them from when he was younger, over in the barn apartment. “We even put them in the guest rooms,” he had told me, which I loved. My particular room had Orion, the mighty hunter in mythology. My dad told me once it represented transformation and was the celestial marker for winter. I told myself that maybe Alaska would be the portal for my transformation. Into what, I didn’t know.

I was restless, shifting my legs against the sheets. Everything touching me was further inflaming my nerves. It felt as if Lincoln himself had stripped away any protection I had, and my hormones were running amok. I shifted my legs again and felt the slick heat between my thighs.

“Why does it have to be Lincoln?” I sighed into the dark. “Why does it have to be you?” I whispered, as if he were here with me.