“You should go inside,” he said quietly.
“I will.”
“Don’t fall asleep out here.”
But I didn’t answer.
Because my body was already losing the fight.
The breeze shifted again. The pool water lapped gently at the stone. Somewhere a wind chime tinkled, soft as a lullaby.
And then the world faded.
I don’t know how long I slept.
But I woke to the click of heels.
And a shadow moving closer.
My eyes fluttered open. My limbs were heavy, stiff from the angle. The sky had deepened to navy velvet, the stars fully out. I sat up, heart in my throat.
A silhouette paused just feet away.
Tall. Broad. Familiar.
Silas.
He stepped into the pool’s light, face unreadable, and my breath caught.
Midnight.
He’d come.
He didn’t say a word.
Just stood there, framed by the glow of the water, his eyes fixed on me like he was afraid if he blinked, I’d vanish.
My heart stuttered.
He moved toward me, slow and deliberate. No jacket tonight. Just a black shirt that clung to his frame and jeans that fit like he was born to wreck them. His hair was a little messy, his face shadowed and unreadable.
But when he reached me, something cracked.
He crouched beside the chair, one hand brushing a curl from my cheek.
“You waited,” he said.
“I didn’t mean to.”
His mouth curved. Not a smile. Something smaller. Sadder.
I reached for him before I could stop myself, fingers threading through his hair, pulling him down. The kiss came like a breath caught too long—slow, deep, aching. His hands slid around my waist, his body folding against mine like he belonged there.
It was different this time.
Still hungry, still hot. But quieter, like we both knew what waited beyond this moment. Like we were kissing against the clock.
His hand slid down my back, then lower, fingers brushing my thigh, his gaze catching on something. He paused.
