Gently—as if she were made of the most precious, delicate material ever created—I pressed my palm against her cheek,cradling her face in my hand. She squeezed her eyes shut like she couldn’t bear to look at me.
“I’m not, though,” I murmured. “Don’t hide from me. Not anymore.”
A flash of pain cracked across her features, but she didn’t open her eyes. “It’s nothing.”
“Liar.”
She sucked in a sharp breath, and her eyes flew open—frozen and cold as ever. “It doesn’t matter.”
My thumb caressed her cheekbone, my fingers almost trembling with the effort to stay soft and gentle when frustration vibrated through me.
“You matter, Quinn,” I said softly. The truth of it slammed into me hard enough to make my ribs ache. My heart pulsed faster.
I wasn’t sure when it had happened—maybe it was the first moment I saw her here in this very building.
She mattered. She mattered so much it hurt.
It ached in every place that had been crushed and broken.
I had thought those parts of me died when Blair did—but that wasn’t true. They had simply been festering. Rotting in a dark place I had ignored.
And Quinn…she had been the balm I needed. The sharp sting of antiseptic and sunlight. All this time she’d been healing me, and I hadn’t even realized.
I couldn’t lose her. Not without a fight.
“You’re everything I didn’t know I needed, Quinn,” I confessed. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”
The ice in her eyes shattered—splintering into glittering fragments that caught in the dim lighting of our hidden nook.
There was a long pause. I didn’t look away.
“You shouldn’t say that,” she whispered, but there was no conviction in it.
I stepped closer. Her labored breaths ghosted over my mouth.
“But it’s true. I wouldn’t lie to you.”
She let out a small gasp that made every inch of my skin vibrate.
“Graham.” She almost panted my name, like she couldn’t catch a proper breath. “Stop. I’m—I’m not right for you. I’ll never belong here.”
It felt like she was ripping my heart in two. She didn’t think she was worthy.
My fingers dragged slowly down the side of her face until I gripped her jaw, guiding her mouth closer to mine. I could almost taste her.
“Another lie,” I rasped. “You don’t have to prove yourself to me. You don’t have to prove yourself to this town. If you were mine—” A shudder rippled through me at the thought. “You would belong wherever I did.”
She made a choked sound—something made of longing and heartbreak and desperation.
Then she closed the gap between us, her mouth sealing over mine.
Her kiss was a wild, hungry, trembling thing. I groaned, my hand tightening on her jaw as the other slid to her waist, pulling her flush against me.
The shelves pressed into her back as she clung to the front of my shirt, dragging me closer. Books rattled behind her with every desperate shift of our bodies.
She moved her mouth from mine, lips trailing down my jaw and neck until her teeth nipped at the sensitive skin at my throat. I fought for air.
“Quinn,” I growled, impatient, pulling her back up and kissing her again—deeper and slower, like I was devouring her.
