My hand drifted to her hair, tucking a loose strand behind her ear so I could see her face. She was beautiful like this—unguarded, lips parted slightly, lashes resting against flushed cheeks.
The room’s dim glow pooled over her shoulder, catching on the faint freckles I hadn’t noticed before. My fingers itched to trace them, to map her like I had all the time in the world.
Because that was what I really wanted.
Time.
More mornings with them. More nights tangled in her sheets, her laughter in my ears, her daughter’s tiny hand tugging mine toward some imaginary kingdom.
My nerves tightened into knots.
I’d spent my whole life trying to be the guy everyone wanted around—the one who kept things light, easy, fun. But sitting here, I couldn’t shake the weight pressing in. The ache of wanting too much, of holding too tightly to something that wasn’t mine to keep.
It felt too good—too close to perfect—and deep down I hated how easily I could believe I’d earned it. Like I deserved her, deserved Winnie, deserved this quiet life. It was a gnawing fear I’d never measure up—that no matter how much I wanted to be their constant, their safe place, wanting wouldn’t be enough.
Selene shifted again, her breath warm against my skin.
I held her closer. I wasn’t ready to let go, but deep down, beneath the buttery quiet and her soft sighs, I felt it—the truth pressing in and taking hold.
This wouldn’t last, because nothing this good ever did.
I shut my eyes. I tried to ignore it and to hold the moment tighter, but the words lingered anyway.
She hummed and murmured in her sleep, “I like when you stay.” Her words, almost too soft to catch, were a punch to the gut.
I smoothed her hair back, my thumb brushing the delicate curve of her cheek. I swallowed hard against the lump expanding in my throat.
“I’ll stay as long as you’ll let me,” I whispered, though I wasn’t sure if I meant it as a promise or a plea.
Because deep down, I knew I’d already fallen too far to pull myself back.
TWENTY-SEVEN
SELENE
I woke slowly,my senses pulling me into the soft edges of morning before my thoughts caught up. The first thing I felt was warmth—steady and encompassing, curling around me like a cozy blanket knit just for me.
Then the weight of his arm draped across my waist. His hand spread over my ribs, fingers splayed as if even in sleep he couldn’t stop holding me.
My cheek rested against his chest, and I could hear the slow, even rhythm of his heartbeat under my ear. It was unhurried. Certain.
For a moment I let myself stay perfectly still.
The air smelled faintly like soap and sawdust—Austin’s scent—and his smooth skin was soft beneath my cheek. I breathed in, even though I knew I shouldn’t.
He’d crash-landed into my life, and something about it felt like it wasn’t ours to keep, but I would hold on anyway.
I tilted my head just enough to study him in the pale light spilling through the curtains. His face was softer in sleep—none of the playful grins or cocky smirks he wielded so easily when he was awake. He was just a man. His lashes cast faint shadows onhis cheeks, his lips slightly parted as his breath puffed against my hair.
I let my gaze linger on the sharp line of his jaw, the faint stubble darkening his chin and upper lip. My eyes caught on the small scar near his mouth, the one I’d traced absentmindedly with my thumb the night before. I wondered whether it was from some childhood playground accident or a reckless bar fight. There was still so much about him I didn’t know.
Something tight coiled low in my chest, and I forced myself to look away.
These feelings didn’t mean permanence. It didn’t mean we were building anything.
It was just a moment. One perfect, fleeting moment.
The floorboards creaked faintly as I made my way down the hall, tugging the sleeves of Austin’s sweatshirt over my hands. The kitchen was quiet when I slipped in, and I immediately started a fresh pot of coffee. When it was finished brewing, I wrapped my hands around the coffee mug, letting the warmth seep into my fingers as I stared out the window into the backyard.
