I swallowed. My scarf felt too tight.
“Thin walls,” I said, softer this time. “I heard her talking to you. I heard you laugh.”
Her eyes flickered and her breath hitched. Selene wrapped her arms around her waist like she needed to hold herself together.
“I didn’t know if I’d see you tonight,” she whispered.
I took a small step forward. Careful. Reverent.
“I missed you,” she said suddenly, voice breaking like brittle glass.
I reached for her before I could think better of it. My hand cupped her jaw, thumb brushing the edge of her cheekbone. “I’ve been walking around missing you so hard I forget how to breathe.”
Her eyes filled. “I was upset.”
“I know.” My chest squeezed.
Her head shook. “I was upset because you missed the performance, but I was too harsh. I let—” She released a shaky breath, but she didn’t pull away. Her hands found my chest, curled lightly in the front of my shirt. “I let one mistake take away everything you’ve done for me. For us. I didn’t even hear you out. I was wrong.”
I shook my head. We both had played a part in how everything went to shit. “I fucked up. I never should have putanythingbefore you and Winnie. It won’t happen again.”
“I don’t want to do this halfway, but I’m so scared,” she whispered.
“I’m not halfwayanythingwith you. I’m all in. I have been since the first time we met in that shitty jazz bar.” My fingers tipped up her chin so she’d look at me. “Once I realized the incredible woman I thought had gotten away was right here? I was done for.”
A small chuckle rumbled in my chest. “You know, I missed waking up to your hair on my pillow,” I said, voice low and tight. “I missed the sound of you laughing. I missed the way you hum when you’re washing up, and the way the corners of your mouth lift when you’re pretending not to smile.”
Selene blinked, the tears trembling there. “I missed you asking if I needed gas. I missed the way you always handed me the little fork because you know I like it best, and the way you check the door twice even though I already locked it. I missed ... the way it felt when I wasn’t holding it all together alone.”
I touched my forehead to hers, our breath mingling. “I never wanted you to feel alone. Not again. Not with me.”
Her lips brushed mine—barely. A tremble. A ghost of a kiss. Selene leaned in, and I met her the rest of the way.
The kiss was slow. Lingering. Not a reunion, not really. It was a remembering. A returning. A rebuilding.
Her lips opened under mine with a quiet, vulnerable sigh that hit me harder than any shouted confession. It wrecked me, the way she leaned into me like she wanted to memorize the shape of this. Of us.
I kissed her slowly, reverently. Letting it build.
One hand on her jaw, the other sliding around her waist, anchoring her to me. Her body curved into mine, and my restraint thinned.
She made a broken noise against my mouth, and I felt it in the hollow of my throat and the bend of my knees. Her kiss filled the ache that had lived in my chest in her absence.
I pulled her closer, and then I kissed her deeper, hungrier.
That kiss was full of every goddamn thing I’d wanted to say and hadn’t. Every time I’d reached for her in a dream and woken up alone. Every time I’d caught her scent in the hallway and had to stop myself from knocking on her door.
Her fingers threaded into my hair, tugging just enough to make me groan.
I kissed her again, and again, and again, until the heat bloomed between us—low and heady.
The world disappeared, and all that was left was the woman in my arms and the taste of her.
“AHEM.”
We froze.
Selene blinked up at me, wide-eyed. Her lips were swollen, cheeks flushed. I wasn’t doing much better.
