Her breath shudders out. “There’s more at stake now. They’re your business partners?—”
“Eleven years hasn't made me want you any less.”
She closes her eyes. A tear slips down her cheek, and I catch it with my thumb.
“I'm not asking you to tell them tonight,” I say quietly. “I'm not asking you to blow up your life or choose either me or your family. I'm just asking you to stop hiding. From me. Right now. In this moment.”
She opens her eyes. They're swimming, but she's looking at me. Really looking.
Not through a viewfinder.
Not from across the room.
Just... me and her. The way it used to be.
“I don't know how,” she whispers.
“Yeah, you do.”
I kiss her forehead. Soft and slow, I let my lips linger. “I know what goes on in here. The overthinking. The worrying. The way you run everyscenario until you've convinced yourself the worst one is inevitable.”
A broken sound escapes her throat, but I don’t stop.
I can’t stop. Just like this morning.
Because this is growing up. Saying the hard shit even when you know you're going to hurt someone you love.
Especially then.
I kiss her mouth. Just a lingering brush. “I know what comes out of here. The sharp edges you use to push people away. The humor that's really armor. The lies you tell yourself about not wanting this.”
Her fingers dig into my shoulders as a shudder rolls through her.
Dragging the tip of my nose along the row of open buttons, I lower my mouth to the swell of her breast, right over her heart—where it pounds against my lips.
“But here.” My voice turns thick and low. “This is the secret place. The part you've never shown anyone completely. The part you lock away and pretend doesn't exist because it hurts too much to want things you think you’ve convinced yourself you can’t have.”
It’s the most grounded kiss of my life. The one that will devastate me if I gamble and lose.
Silent tears slide down her face. Her hands find my jaw, tilt my head up so she can see my eyes.
“This is the part of you I want to see,” I say quietly. “Not the photographer. Not the sister. Not the woman who's spent a decade convincing everyone she's fine.” Cupping her damp cheek, I brush my thumb over her bottom lip. “I want the girl who carved her heart intothis lodge and never stopped loving it. Never stopped loving?—”
She steals the words from my mouth with a kiss.
Not soft. Not careful.
She kisses me like the whole damn world is sliding out of her grasp and anchoring herself to me is the only way to stop from falling.
I wrap my arms around her and hold on.
The sash tangles between us. Her camera digs into my ribs. Neither of us cares.
She arches into me. The sound she makes when my palm meets her fevered skin ignites my blood.
When her hips roll, mine answer.
The barstool creaks ominously but holds, and I couldn't care less if it collapses as long as she keeps making those sounds.
