He stood near enough for the trace of spice in his cologne to catch her—warm and familiar, threading through the cool night. Her breath faltered before she could stop it.
Close enough that stepping back didn’t feel like an option, but like surrender.
The streetlamp carved his face in silver and shadow, sculpting the quiet violence of him. But something softer lay beneath it, flickering in the space between them. Something that didn’t need to speak its name to be understood.
Gideon didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Just looked at her with a steady gaze that never demanded, never pushed—simply waited.
The air vibrated, charged with a quiet question neither of them had asked.
Not yet.
Her fingers were against his.
Her heart beat like a drum inside a glass case.
Then finally, his voice cut through the space between them.
Low. Intimate.
A dark thread of silk against the night.
“Goodnight, Arden.”
Her name had weight in his mouth.
Like a secret.
Like a promise.
Her breath stuttered. Her chin lifted. Every instinct screamed to pull away before the moment deepened further, before it carved something permanent into her.
But she didn’t move.
Instead, she met his gaze—unflinching, unresolved.
“Goodnight, Gideon.”
The words were soft. Careful. A breath wrapped in armor.
Arden slowly slid into the driver’s seat and shut the door. The click of the latch cut felt sharp and final.
The quiet didn’t empty the air; it thickened it, weighted with everything unsaid. It was filled with the echo of him.
The ghost of his hand at her back.
The pull of a night that hadn’t fully released her.
This wasn’t a dance.
It was the beginning of something else.
And for the first time in years… she didn’t want to run from it.
CHAPTER 15
Marked
Headlights skimmed the curb as Arden pulled into an open space—rare for this block, a small grace after a night that left her off-balance.
