I tried to leave a little space between us, but his thigh brushed against mine anyway. His arm stretched casually along the back of the booth, fingers just barely grazing my shoulder.
“You’re awfully quiet,” he murmured, leaning close enough that I could feel his breath against my temple.
“Just wondering how it feels to be a hardened criminal.”
He chuckled low, the sound rumbling through me. “Pretty badass, actually. Think I’m gonna get a tattoo. Maybe a teardrop under my eye.”
I snorted. “You’d cry before the needle even touched your skin.”
He tilted his head, eyes sparkling. “You offering to hold my hand?”
“God, you’re insufferable.”
“Yeah, but you like me this way.” He ruffled my hair once with the hand that was pointedlynottouching me.
The server came by, filling our mugs with coffee and dropping menus we didn’t touch. Ansel reached for his, the movement brushing his arm against mine, and my heart stuttered like a teenager’s.
“You’re not gonna yell at me?” he asked after a moment, voice casual but eyes sharp.
“For what? Getting arrested?”
He grinned. “Among other things.”
I shook my head. “You’ll just do that thing where you smile at me until I forgive you.”
“Correct me if I’m wrong.” His lips twitched. “But I think you love that smile.”
“Debatable.”
But my pulse was already quickening. Because, God, he was so close. Warm and solid and all I wanted was to lean into him. To fold myself into his arms and never leave.
“Ansel,” I said softly.
He hummed in acknowledgment, his thumb brushing lightly over the back of my shoulder.
“I saw it,” I whispered. “The fight. All of it.”
His grin faltered.
“You didn’t have to do that for me.” My voice cracked.
“Yeah,” he said, just as softly. “I did.”
I stared down at my coffee, blinking hard to keep the tears from spilling over. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” I said finally, thewords scraped raw. “I keep thinking you’re going to realize I’m not worth it. That you’re wasting your time on me.”
His head turned sharply toward me, eyes blazing. “Juniper.”
“What?”
“You don’t get to say that shit about yourself.”
I let out a shaky laugh. “You’re so dramatic.”
“Don’t deflect.” But he grinned, leaning in until his nose brushed my hair. “You like me this way.”
I elbowed him weakly. “Maybe a little.”
He chuckled, the sound warm and low. “You’re ridiculous. Here I am, freshly out of jail, and you’re still pretending you’re not obsessed with me.”
