But in this little square of space—the two feet of wall behind her and the few inches of floor under my feet—none of that matters for a minute.
It’s just us.
Her mouth.
My hands.
The quiet, secret thrill of finally touching something I’ve wanted for longer than I’ll admit.
When we finally pull apart, we’re both breathing hard again. Her lips are swollen, eyes dark.
“If this is what ‘training’ looks like now,” she says, voice slightly hoarse, “I’m putting it on the schedule daily.”
“Pretty sure that defeats the purpose,” I mutter.
“What, stress relief?”
“Focus,” I say. “We’re supposed to be increasing it, not destroying it.”
She grins. “You’re the one who pinned me to a wall, Hayes,” she points out. “I was being a perfectly innocent student.”
“You are never innocent,” I say.
“True.” She lifts her hand, fingers brushing my jaw, softer now. “But I am yours.”
The words hit with the force of a body blow.
I don’t deserve that kind of claim.
I want it anyway.
“Yeah,” I hear myself say. “You are.”
Her answering smile is so bright it feels like a dare to the universe.
She gives my shirt one last little tug, then slips out from between me and the wall, bare feet padding back toward the table.
“Come on,” she says over her shoulder. “Helios isn’t going to catch themself.”
I watch her for a second.
The way she moves.
The way she glances back to make sure I’m following.
The way my chest feels—too full and not nearly enough space for all of this.
I’m worried.
God, I’m worried.
About Cathedral.
About the bounty.
About what happens when Dean finds Helios and what kind of nest we’re poking.
But underneath the worry, there’s something else now.
