I wanted to. Oh how I wanted to, but all that rose to the surface was fear. Fear that if I let myself lean on him—even for a moment—I’d never want to stand alone again. I couldn’t afford that kind of weakness, not with a daughter who needed me steady. But a small, treacherous part of me ached for it anyway—for someone strong enough to stay, even when things got hard. I wasn’t sure I believed such a person existed.
It wasn’t attracting the attention of a younger, hotter man that scared me. It was the way he made me want things I’d buried years ago—safety, partnership, someone to come home to—and I didn’t know if I’d survive losing them again.
So I kissed him. Harder than I meant to, like I could chase away his ghosts and quiet my own. Maybe I wasn’t ready to give him all the words tangled up in my heart, but I could give him this—my hands in his hair, my mouth on his, the unspoken promise that, for tonight, he was seen.
Chosen.
Austin made a surprised sound against my mouth before his hands cupped my jaw, pulling me closer, anchoring me in the way only he could.
I broke the kiss first, tugging his hand. “Come inside.”
His brows lifted slightly, a question in his eyes.
“Please,” I said, my voice unsteady.
TWENTY-SIX
AUSTIN
She pulled back just enoughto whisper it—soft, shaky, wrecking me in one syllable.
“Please.”
Her fingers were still wrapped around mine, tight like she wasn’t sure I’d follow. Like she didn’t know I already would’ve followed her anywhere.
“Come inside,” she repeated with a whisper, her voice unsteady, like she was afraid I might say no.
Like I ever could.
The porch step creaked under her bare feet, her eyes fixed on mine like I was something she wasn’t sure she should want—but was about to take anyway.
Then her lips were on me again. Not soft and tentative, but hungry.
Selene kissed like she was trying to anchor herself in a storm, her fingers curling in my shirt as if to tether me closer. I didn’t hesitate—I couldn’t. My hands found her jaw, my thumbs brushing the delicate curve beneath her ears as I deepened the kiss.
She tasted like salted caramel and fear and something so fucking addictive I already knew I’d crave it long after she let me go.
She was pulling me in. Pushing me away. Both at once. Honestly, I didn’t care which—so long as she didn’t stop.
The porch light flickered faintly overhead, moths circling, their wings whispering in the dark. It was the only sound besides our breathing, our lips, the needy noises catching in her throat.
Selene pressed closer, her hips brushing mine, and my restraint—always shaky around her—frayed to threads.
“Selene,” I murmured against her mouth, unsure whether it was a warning or a prayer.
Her hands fisted in my hair, tugging just enough to make me groan, to make my pulse thunder against my ribs. I kissed her harder—desperate, frantic in a way that cracked something wide open inside me.
This wasn’t casual.
This wasn’t just fun.
For a flash, I was fifteen years old again, standing outside a house I wasn’t allowed to call home. Cold hands. Cold nose. Watching through the glass as Brody set the table inside, laughter spilling past walls I could never breach.
I’d told myself I didn’t need them, that I didn’t need anyone.
But here? Selene’s hands on me, her mouth claiming mine like I belonged to her? It undid me.
A sound broke from deep in my chest—rough, needy—as I pressed her back gently against the porch rail, my forehead resting against hers as we both fought for air.
