They walked in silence,but it wasn’t the kind that offered peace. Each step dragged, the city holding its breath alongside her. Slow. Heavy.
Gideon’s hand stayed at her waist, steady and sure. Not just a comfort—it told her exactly where she was meant to be. Protective. Grounded. Almost… intimate.
Arden barely felt the cold anymore.
Each shadow along the sidewalk tugged at her focus, setting her nerves on edge.
Maybe it was nothing.
But she couldn’t shake the feeling she wasn’t alone.
“Let me walk you up,” he said, his voice low but resolute. The way he said it made it clear—this wasn’t optional.
She turned at the door, already shaking her head.
“I’m fine,” she said—too fast, brittle. A defense dressed as strength.
His jaw flexed. Not angry, but restrained.
“I know you are,” he said. “But humor me.”
The words wrapped around her like a truth she wasn’t ready for.
Not dangerous because they threatened her.
Dangerous because they didn’t.
Because they sounded too much like care.
Like trust. And that was what scared her most.
She didn’t argue. Couldn’t. Not with him this close. His presence slipped through cracks she’d been trying too hard to ignore.
They climbed the stairs;the creaking of the wood the only sounds between them. The silence stretched tight, thick with what neither of them could say.
Arden reached her door, her fingers fumbling with the keys. She muttered a curse to herself when they slipped from her grasp.
Gideon was already there.
He closed the last inches between them.
His hand brushed hers, steadying without asking. His touch hit her like a spark, short-circuiting every instinct she had.
For a second, she couldn’t move. Only feel.
“Let me,” he murmured.
Her fingers loosened, surrendering the keys.
Not because she couldn’t manage.
But because she didn’t want to pretend.
He unlocked the door, but didn’t move away. His hand settled back at her waist, slow and deliberate this time. His thumb slid beneath the edge of her sweater, barely a touch, but it lit her from the inside. Immediate. Unmistakable.
Her heart pounded, the heat of him cutting through the cold.
He was close, grounding in a way that made her feel a little less unmoored.
