I swallow hard. “It means if you don’t want me thinking about kissing you tonight, you should probably step away.”
She doesn’t.
She doesn’t say a word.
She keeps dancing, moving with me like we’ve done this a hundred times. Like it’s natural. Like it’s inevitable.
The music keeps going. The crowd around us fades. And for a while, it’s just us—heat and rhythm andeverythingI’ve wanted since the day she walked into my kitchen like she owned the air I breathe.
“You’re trouble,” I murmur near her ear.
She laughs softly, eyes half lidded. “I never said I wasn’t.”
I dip my head, close enough to feel her smile against my cheek.
“Then I’m screwed,” I whisper.
She doesn’t deny it.
She presses closer, slow and sure, like she’s testing the edge of every limit we’ve both been pretending still exists.
But then, when I think she’s about to let go, Josie pulls back slightly, her fingers brushing mine as she steps away, just enough to make me chase her with my eyes.
“Don’t do that,” she says softly.
I blink, heart stuttering. “Do what?”
“Look at me like that,” she says. “Like you’ve already decided something and you’re waiting for me to catch up.”
Her voice isn’t angry. It’s quiet. Measured. But I hear the ache underneath.
“I haven’t decided anything,” I say, stepping in again, slow and careful. “I just know what I feel when I’m near you.”
She lets out a small breath, eyes flicking to mine. “And what is that, exactly?”
“Like I finally stopped holding my breath.”
Her expression wavers, but she shakes her head, turning slightly so I’m not fully in her line of sight.
“Knox,” Her voice drops. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”
“Then tell me.” I reach out, gently catching her elbow. “Help me understand. Because this thing between us? It’s not just in my head. You feel it too. I know you do.”
“I do,” she admits, almost instantly, then curses under her breath. “Shit, I do. That’s the problem.”
“Why is it a problem?” I ask. “Why can’t this be simple?”
“Because nothing about me is simple,” she says, eyes flashing. “Because I’m not ready. Because I’ve got too much going on in my head, and if I let you in, if I letthisin, I don’t know what parts of me will be left standing.”
That lands like a punch.
But I don’t flinch. I nod slowly. “Okay. Then let me be the thing thatdoesn’task you to break more pieces off yourself. Let me be something good.”
Josie stares at me for a long, charged moment. She opens her mouth, closes it. Her jaw clenches like she’s trying to hold something back.
“I don’t trust myself with you,” she finally says. “And I really don’t trust myselfaroundyou.”
“Then don’t trust yourself,” I say. “Trustme.”
