Relief loosened the tension in her expression. I lowered myself back down to the bed, this time keeping some distance between us as I laid on the opposite side.
She settled onto her side too, facing me. Our eyes locked, and I could still see the faint hints of blue fire burning in hers. Untamed flames I wanted to explore and get lost in.
“Thank you,” she whispered, breaking the heady silence that had fallen between us.
I nodded, my chest tight, but didn’t move otherwise. I watched her eyelids grow heavier. Eventually, they closed completely—and didn’t open again until the morning sun was full and bright.
WhenIgraduallycameback to consciousness, the first thing I became aware of was the warmth pressed against my chest.
At first, it felt nice. It felt right.
I jerked awake, the realization sinking in.
Quinn. It was Quinn pressed against me. Her face was buried against my chest. My arm was slung around her waist, and our legs tangled together. Somehow, we’d found each other while we were asleep.
I stared down at her as she slept. She looked peaceful. Her face was placid, full lips slightly parted. She was stunning.
My heart flittered in my chest, like it had been stirred awake too. What was I getting myself into? What had Ialreadygotten myself into?
Quinn was leaving. She didn’t live in Ember Hollow, and now—
My stomach sank.
Now she wasn’t even working the Shadow Stalker case. She had no reason to stay.
Slowly, trying not to wake her, I lifted my arm from her waist and scrubbed a hand over my face. The smell of her lingered, her jasmine scent wrapping around me until I was overwhelmed by it.
She stirred, and I froze.
When I glanced down again, she was looking up at me sleepily. It was…adorable. I couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at my lips.
“Good morning,” I said, my voice so gravelly I almost winced at how ridiculous I sounded.
She blinked again, then her eyes flared wide. Her cheeks flushed, and for a moment, I expected her to pull away. I waited for it—that moment when she’d shut down and freeze me out with those pale pools of blue. But she didn’t.
Instead, her throat dipped as she swallowed.
“Morning,” she murmured.
That sinking weight in my chest lifted so suddenly, my heart lodged into my throat. Without thinking, my gaze darted to her lips. Her breaths stalled, and that electric hum—that spark of fire—reignited in my veins.
I instinctively leaned toward her, stopping before our noses brushed. “You should—” I drew in a steadying breath. “You should probably get going.”
She stared at me for a beat longer. “Right.” She nodded. “I should go.”
This time, she glanced at my mouth. God, she was going to be the death of me. Every fiber of my being screamed at me to kiss her again. She’d tasted so sweet. I was going to dream about that damn kiss.
“I’ll bring you back to your car.” We’d left it in Callie’s parking lot.
She nodded again, but didn’t move.
We sat there for another agonizing minute. Her hands rested on my chest, her fingers curling into the fabric of my shirt. Itwould’ve been so easy to pick up right where we left off last night.
She wasn’t mine.
I sighed, trying to let all my tension go with it. I leaned down and pressed a kiss against her forehead. Then I forced myself to pull away.
She watched me, unmoving, as I stood. Her disappointment was so clear that a pang of guilt hit me. But it was the right decision not to kiss her again.
