“I ran toward you.”
My throat tightens. “You’re not supposed to.”
“I don’t give a damn what I’m supposed to do.”
His forehead presses harder to mine, breath hot, ragged. “I won’t ever not come to you.”
My breath leaves in a tremble. “You can’t promise me that.”
He lifts his head barely, just enough for our eyes to lock again. “Watch me.”
I don’t kiss him.
He doesn’t kiss me.
But we’re close—too close—and every cell in my body is leaning, reaching, aching for his mouth like gravity is calling us together.
And then?—
His thumb brushes my bottom lip.
Everything inside me surrenders.
The sound I make is part sob, part exhale, part ten years of trying to forget him. His jaw tightens, nostrils flaring like he’s holding back the same storm tearing through me.
“Savannah…” His voice is shredded. “If I kiss you right now…”
My fingers curl into his jacket. “Don’t start something you don’t plan on finishing.”
That does it. His eyes darken, breath unsteady.
“You think I don’t plan on finishing?” he growls, low and devastating.
Heat flashes under my skin. My pulse leaps.
But then he swallows hard, grounding himself, like he’s wrestling the instinct to devour me right here on the turnout bench.
He cups my face with both hands now, forehead to mine again, breath mixing.
“You’ve been through enough fire,” he murmurs. “I’m not going to burn you too.”
“You’re not burning me,” I whisper. “You’re—God, Axel—you’re the first thing in years that feels like oxygen.”
A tremor goes through him so strong I feel it in my bones.
Then suddenly—I’m pulled into him. His arms wrap around me like they were made for it. My body slots against his sonaturally it hurts. My forehead presses to his shoulder, breath shaking through me as he holds me tighter, tighter, like he’s afraid I’ll vanish if he loosens his grip.
I don’t know who moves first.
Maybe we both do.
Because one second I’m clinging to him and the next, his hands slide to my waist and I slide off the bench, straight into him.
We’re standing, chest to chest, no space between us, our breaths tangling. His heartbeat thunders against mine.
“Savannah.” The word vibrates against my collarbone.
His hand lifts, fingers threading into my hair. I gasp lightly, and he shudders.
