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"Sage," I start, but she's already talking.

"I know I've been weird this week," she says in a rush."Distant and evasive and probably giving you mixed signals, but it's not because of Monday morning.Well, not exactly.It's just that everything felt so perfect and then you had to leave and I started overthinking?—"

"Sage."

"—and I know we said it was just business but then it really wasn't just business and I didn't know how to process that?—"

"Sage."

"—and then you sent all those flowers and the dress and I wanted to tell you?—"

I kiss her.

It's the only way I can think of to stop the word avalanche, and the moment our lips meet, everything else fades.

She makes a small sound of surprise before pulling me close, her hands coming up to frame my face.

"I'm sorry," I murmur against her mouth.“That morning...I should’ve handled it better.I should’ve stayed.Or at the very least, told you why I had to go.But all I did was make you feel disposable.And you’re not.You’re the farthest thing from it."

Her eyes shine, lips parting slightly.

"You sent an army of flowers," she whispers.

"Because I missed you.Because I kept thinking about you that first night, shower-soaked, in polka dot pajamas.And that smirk.And the way you looked asleep in my arms.And how, even now, I can barely breathe just seeing you across a room."

Her breath catches.

“Sage,” I begin again, tugging her even closer.

But she’s already unraveling.

“I know I’ve been weird this week,” she blurts.“Distant and overthinking and probably a little insane, but it’s not because of what happened, not really.I just—everything felt too perfect and I panicked and?—”

“You’re gonna ruin me,” I murmur, voice low and dark as I cage her in with my body.“You know that?”

“Luke—”

I back her against the stone wall with a quiet thud, my body caging hers.“You talk too much when you’re nervous.”

She freezes.

“I love it,” I add roughly.“But tonight, I want you speechless.”

Then I kiss her a second time.

Deep.Consuming.

All tongue and possession.

She gasps against me, lips parting, and I take full advantage.My tongue slides against hers, slow and greedy, and I feel her melt like warm wax.

When I break away, I stay close enough to taste her breath.“You wore that dress to kill me, didn’t you?”

“I wore it because you sent it,” she says softly.“I wanted to look good for you.”

I chuckle darkly.“You don’t look good, Sage.You look like a fucking fantasy.And now I need to ruin it.”

She gasps again, but this one’s sharper.