We don’t talk while the water heats. The quiet isn’t awkward—it’s charged, like a held breath.
“I’m still mad,” she says suddenly, not looking at me.
I nod. “You’re allowed.”
She snorts softly. “I don’t know if I’m mad at you or at eighteen-year-old me.”
“Probably both,” I say. “That seems fair.”
She finally looks at me, eyes sharp. “You’re not off the hook.”
“I wouldn’t expect to be.”
The kettle whistles. She pours the water, hands steady, then turns and leans back against the counter across from me.
“I don’t want to pretend we’re okay,” she says. “But I don’t want to pretend I don’t want you either.”
The honesty hits me square in the chest.
“I don’t want to pretend,” I say quietly. “About any of it.”
She studies my face, like she’s searching for the cracks. “I can’t do this if you’re going to disappear again.”
I step closer, slow enough that she could stop me if she wanted to. “I’m not here to make promises I can’t keep,” I say. “But I am here. Tonight. Tomorrow. As long as you’ll let me be.”
Her breath hitches.
“This doesn’t fix everything,” she says.
“I know.”
She closes the distance.
This kiss is slower. Her hands slide up my chest, tentative at first, then firmer when I don’t pull away. I cup her face, my thumbs brushing her cheeks like I’m relearning her.
She tastes like tea and warmth and something that feels like home.
We break apart only long enough for her to whisper, “We should take this slow.”
I rest my forehead against hers. “We can.”
She swallows. “But I don’t want to stop.”
“Neither do I.”
When we move toward the bedroom, it’s unhurried. Deliberate. Every touch is a question answered with yes. I pay attention to the way she breathes, the way she presses into me like she’s trusting her body to remember what her heart hasn’t caught up to yet.
“This doesn’t mean everything’s solved,” she murmurs against my lips.
“I know,” I say.
SEVEN
ABBY
Not wanting to worry about the future or the pass, I press all thoughts of everything out of my head as I pull his head back down for a kiss.
Brendon’s hands slide up my sides, caressing my curves and coming to cup my breasts. I arch against his hard hands, and his thumb slides over my nipple, sending a fresh ripple of desire through me.
