Unavoidable.
“Kamiyah,” I say quietly, gravity pulling me toward her.
She rises onto her elbow too—closing the distance without realizing she’s doing it.
We stop inches apart.
Her breath brushes my throat.
Mine stirs the wayward curls framing her face.
Everything in me goes tense and painfully aware.
“You shouldn’t be this close when we’re having such a serious discussion,” I murmur.
“Why?” she whispers.
“Because I can’t think when you do.”
Her eyes widen, pupils darkening. “Then maybe don’t think.”
“Honey,” I warn, voice rough.
She takes a single, reckless scooch closer, until her chest brushes mine, barely there, a whisper of contact—but enough to ignite every nerve in my body. Her voice trembles. “I’m tired of being too afraid to take what I want.”
I lower my head, lips a breath from her temple, inhaling her. “And you think I’m safe?”
“No,” she whispers, shivering. “I think you’re dangerous. But not to me.”
My hands hover at her hips, fighting the instinct to pull her in.
“You have no idea what you’re doing,” I breathe. “Or what a siren you are.”
“I do.” Her eyes search mine, soft and desperate. “I’m asking you to save my future. And maybe… maybe I’m asking you to save me.”
Her voice cracks on the last word.
Something inside me snaps—quietly, irrevocably.
I lift a hand to her jaw, tracing the line of her cheek with slow, aching restraint. She melts into the mattress, eyes fluttering shut, breath catching. My forehead lowers toward hers—slow, uncontrollable—until our skin grazes, until her breath mingles with mine.
We hover there, suspended, trembling on the edge of something we can’t undo.
“Honey,” I whisper, “This isn’t just a fake engagement anymore. Not for me. Do you understand?”
Her fingers brush my wrist, feather-light but burning. “I do and I want this.”
My eyes close, a low groan escaping me. “You’re going to ruin me.”
“Maybe,” she whispers. “Maybe I already am.”
And kiss her.
From the moment her mouth met mine, something inside me settled with a clarity I hadn’t felt in years—as if every truth I’d buried, every feeling I’d forced into silence, rose to the surface and shaped itself into the press of her lips. I kiss her slowly, deliberately, letting her feel the promise I’m making. The kind of kiss that said I’m allowing her to walk away this time. That she isn’t alone in this fight, or in the wanting that had been building between us since the moment she stepped back into my life. Her fingers curled into the back of my neck, pulling me impossibly closer, and the soft sound she makes against my mouth unravels the last of my restraint. I cup her face, deepening the kiss with a reverence I don’t bother pretending I don’t feel—because we both knew this is no longer about convenience, or strategy, or anything that could be faked.
When I finally drew back, just enough to feel her breath against my lips, the truth settle between us—unspoken, but solid as a heartbeat. Her eyes lifted to mine, wide and shining,and I saw it there: the same shift happening inside her. The same surrender to something neither of us planned but both of us crave. I rested my forehead against hers, breathing her in, letting the warmth of her settle through me like gravity.
“Yeah,” I whisper against her mouth, letting my thumb trace her jaw in a slow, intimate stroke. “I’m done pretending you don’t belong to me.” And she didn’t say a word—she didn’t have to. The way she leaned into me, soft and certain, was her answer. Her agreement. Her declaration. An unspoken yes that tightens in my chest and tells me with absolute certainty that whatever this is becoming… she wants it just as much as I did.
