His kiss was slow, certain—like he’d been thinking about it for a while. Like he’d already decided there was no walking back from this, so why not fall headfirst?
I melted.
Like, full goo-phase. My hands clutched his shoulder like it was the only solid thing in the room. My brain tried to form a single coherent thought and failed spectacularly.
And then—panic.
I gasped and pulled back slightly, heat rushing to my cheeks like a five-alarm fire. “Oh my gosh, I didn’t mean to—I mean, I did, but not like in a creepy way! You were sleeping and I—well, I saw the scars, and then it was like my lips had a mind of their own and?—”
He kissed me again.
Just like that. No words. Just a kiss that cut through my hurricane of humiliation like a hot knife through butter.
It wasn’t rushed or demanding. Just firm. Final. Like he was gently telling me to stop.
To stop apologizing.
To stop spiraling.
To just be here.
I felt the last of my ramble die on my tongue as his lips lingered on mine, soft and warm, and oh no—my heart was definitely in danger.
Because if this was how he shut me up?
I was in so much trouble.
Somewhere between the third or fourth brain cell rebooting, I pulled back just enough to mumble, “I, um… probably need to brush my teeth.”
My voice was raspy and sleep-thick, but it felt like the right thing to say after accidentally kissing someone awake and then melting into them like a marshmallow in the microwave. Boundaries. Hygiene. Basic dignity. We love to see it.
Nikolai didn’t say anything at first—just smirked. The kind of lazy, knowing smirk that could probably flatten a small village. Then he said, “I have morning skate.”
That made sense. Of course he had morning skate. He was an NHL player, and I was a gremlin in his hoodie who’d just committed war crimes with a kiss.
“Oh,” I said, pushing myself up a little more, heart thudding against my ribs like it wanted out. “Do you want me to stay? Or—I mean, can I come?”
I tried to sound casual.
I really did.
But my voice pitched upward at the end like I was asking to borrow a kidney instead of tag along to an ice rink.
He blinked, surprised. “You want to?”
I opened my mouth, then hesitated. The words that came next tasted bitter on my tongue, but they slipped out anyway.
“Unless you don’t want me to?” I added quickly, a nervous laugh fluttering out before I could stop it. “I mean, I wouldn’t want to, like, embarrass you or anything…”
His brow furrowed. “Embarrass me?”
My cheeks went up in flames. “Mikel used to say my energy was ‘a lot.’ Like, loud and too much and confusing to people. Especially his teammates. He never really let me come to things. Said they wouldn’t get me.”
There. I said it. And now I wanted to crawl under the bed and live there forever.
Nikolai went still.
Not in a subtle way. Not in a hmm interesting kind of way. No—his whole body locked up, muscles tightening just under the surface like a predator catching the scent of something it didn’t like.
