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This time, it feels like he’s surrendering.

To his pain, to the grief, to me.

Then he starts to hyperventilate, grief spilling down his beautiful face, soaking his cheeks, his jaw, his mouth. I’m on my knees by his side in seconds, leading his forehead to my chest and holding him tighter than ever before.

He starts shaking in my arms, his body howling with years of ignored trauma. Like it all just came rushing back at once, and for the first time since the accident, the truth caught up to him.

He lost his mom.

And Lexie.

And I don’t think he’s ever truly let himself feel it until now.

His despair wets my shirt, but I don’t move a muscle. Not that I could get away even if I wanted to. He holds me like his life depends on it, his face nestled deep into my neck and his tattooed arms strangling my waist. The storm gradually clears up as his breathing stabilizes.

“I’m here,” I whisper through my own tears.

“You shouldn’t be,” he says bluntly.

Shocked, I pull back an inch, and he looks up at me through bloodshot eyes. I can’t bring myself to answer, but he reads my confusion loud and clear, slipping out of my arms.

“You shouldn’t have come back.”

His words feel like knives.

Even after all of this, he’s still pushing me away?

“Why?” Pain drips from my voice.

In response, Finn traps my face into his palms and stares me dead in the eyes, something dark and possessive flickering to life in the backs of his irises.

“Because now, I’m never letting you leave again.”

His mouth slams down on mine so fast and hard I lose track of my own thoughts. Finn doesn’t give me a chance to sign on the dotted line, concluding our transaction with a kiss. The way he ravages my mouth is definitive.

Binding.

His lips sliding against mine feel lethal, like an alcoholic’s first drink after years of sobriety, but I want—need—more and let him know with an unintentional moan. He’s got me begging for his touch as he nicks my bottom lip and parts my teeth with his tongue.

I swore on my life I was giving up on this boy.

But his kiss is like ointment to an infected wound, a distraction we both desperately need after the hell we went through today. This is harmless. We’re just making out. As long as I don’t give him the big V, it doesn’t have to mean anything…

Right?

My patience skips out on me when he licks the seam of my mouth, grazing my tongue with his until I’m gripping the back of his head to deepen our connection. Finn groans into my mouth, handing the lead over to me as our tongues mingle.

His words play in my head like a broken record.

Because now, I’m never letting you leave again.

Does he mean that?

Is he just using me to get over his grief?

I find comfort in knowing that, no matter what happens here tonight, I’ll be gone tomorrow.

I gasp when Finn pulls me to his body with a jerk and pins me down under him, his hard chest caging me in. The night I found him standing in the window, he told me all about the naughty things he wanted to do to me on this rug. And here we are now, making out like animals in the exact same spot.

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