It’s every unsaid thing between us finally finding a voice.
When we break apart, I’m breathless and dazed and half-ready to invite him into my room for the night. Just as I’m about to speak, Nash blows a puff of air past his lips, blinking as if he’s just stepped from darkness into light.
“I’m uh… I shouldn’t have done that,” he whispers, then disappears down the hallway.
I slip inside my room, close the door quietly behind me, and lean against it for a long, long time. The room is dim, lit only by the soft wash of moonlight slipping through the blinds. My breath is still shaky, and I can feel the ghost of his hands on my waist, the heat of his mouth against mine.
What just happened?
Scratch that—I knowwhat just happened. What I don’t know is what it means.
It wasn’t planned. Wasn’t careful. It just… is. Like something inevitable finally found its moment. I press a hand to my chest, half-expecting to feel the wild thud of my heart against my palm.
This is fine.
It’s fine.
People kiss all the time. Mistakes happen, especially when there’s wine. We can just go back to being roommates. Or physical therapy partners. Or strangers who live together. Or… whatever we are.
But my skin still tingles where he touched me.
And there’s a part of me—a very loud, very reckless part—that doesn’t want to stop at just one kiss.
That wants to go back out there and kiss him again.
Longer this time.
Slower.
I exhale hard and limp over to the bed, sinking down onto the mattress. The sheets are cool. The room smells like lavender and lust, and I just lay there, shaking my head at the ceiling.
“Damn it, Lu,” I murmur. “You really do make things harder than they need to be.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Nash
I press my bedroom door closed with the heel of my hand and lean against it like that’ll keep everything on the other side from spilling in here.
What the hell was that?
Lucy’s been in the house for all of five hours and I’ve already crossed the line.
Patient. Roommate. Whatever she is, she’s not mine.
Not to touch, not to want, not to kiss like I’ve been starving for the feel of her.
It’s one thing to like being around her. It’s an entirely asinine thing to let her be anything more than what she is.
My chest is tight, my face hot, and all I can think is how stupid I am. She’ll think I invited her here for this. She’ll think I’m her father all over again—controlling,manipulative, using her circumstances to get what I want.
God, that kiss. I wanted it—more than I’ve wanted anything in years. Her mouth was soft, hesitant, like she didn’t see it coming but maybe part of her had been waiting for it all along. I’ve kissed plenty of women, but this one… this one split something wide open inside me.
Something I’d buried five years ago and swore I’d never let out again.
Because when I fall, I fall hard.
And the way I feel around Lucy—hell, it’s not a fall at all. It’s a free-fall.
