Her eyes burned into mine. “That’s what you really want, isn’t it?”
I closed the space until there was nothing left to take. “That’s the last thing I want. I want this. Us. No one coming between you and me.”
The words landed heavier than I meant, but I didn’t pull them back. Her breath caught, sharp in the space between us, and for a second, it felt as though the ocean and the whole damn sky had gone still to hear the answer.
We shifted, facing one another. Her hands slid up to my neck. My grip drifted to cup her cheek, instinct fighting control and losing in the only way that mattered. The pull between us was tidal; you could step back from water, but you couldn’t stop the moon.
We broke because we had to. Her eyes stayed locked on mine, wide and wrecked in a way that mirrored me.
“Then tell me—if your father pushes, if Lorne stares too long, if Drew warns you again—what do you do?”
“I tell them distance isn’t protection,” I said. “It’s surrender.”
“And if they make you choose?”
“I already have.”
Her lips parted, eyes flashing as if she wanted to call me a liar but didn’t have the proof.
I leaned closer, the words dragging out of me rougher than I meant. “I don’t care if everything implodes around us. I can’t stay away from you.”
The space between us collapsed. No hesitation this time, no slow control. Just heat, anger, need—everything that had been chewing at us breaking loose. Her mouth met mine hard enoughto bruise, my hands in her hair, her fingers fisting my shirt as though we were both trying to keep from shattering.
It wasn’t careful. It wasn’t safe. It was real.
When we tore apart, breathless, her forehead pressed to mine. I still heard the ocean crashing and the wind tearing, but none of it felt bigger than what was happening right here.
“This is messy,” she whispered.
“We’re allowed messy.” I kissed the corner of her mouth, grounding us. “We’re not allowed lies.”
The ocean roared. The sand shifted. But we held steady as my mouth crashed into hers. Her lips parted under mine, until I couldn’t tell where the sea ended and she began. She tasted of wind-whipped air and defiance. My thumb dragged along her jaw, memorizing the line of it, while her nails scraped into the back of my neck as she threaded them into my hair—pain and want sparking through the same wire.
She gasped when I angled closer, and I caught the sound against my mouth, swallowing it as if I’d been starving for it. Every shift pressed her into me harder—the push of her chest, the catch of her hip against mine, the way she didn’t retreat, not an inch.
Control was a word that didn’t exist in this moment. I was fists in her hair, rougher than I should’ve been, softer than I wanted to be, caught between dragging her closer and remembering she was breakable. She didn’t let me choose—her tongue brushed mine, pulling me deeper, making the decision for both of us.
The world pitched under us, but none of it broke the grip I had on her. On this. On the proof that distance had never been an option.
When we finally ripped apart, breaths ragged, foreheads locked, my chest heaved like I’d just gone three rounds in thering. Her pupils were blown wide, lips swollen, hair tangled from my hands.
Her voice broke through, wrecked and unsteady. “We’re going to burn for this.”
I didn’t blink. Didn’t let go. “Then let it burn. Nothing else matters if I have you.”
“Then we face whatever comes our way together,” she whispered and placed her hand in mine.
I tightened my grip, the sand cool against our knuckles. For a second, it felt as if that promise might be enough to hold everything steady. I exhaled. “There’s more.”
Her brows pulled together. “More?”
I reached into my back pocket for my phone and swiped the screen awake. The glow cut across both of us, queuing up the grainy photo, the timestamp burned into the corner. “My PI sent this earlier.”
She leaned closer, squinting. The picture was blurry—night-shot—but the shape was there.
“Who am I looking at?” she asked.
“It’s the night you and your mom left. See the timestamp?”
