“Then I’ll keep pulling you back.” Her voice is fierce. “As many times as it takes.”
I can almost feel the air on my skin. I’m suddenly hyperaware of every place our bodies meet, watching how her eyes stay on mine like she’s afraid to look away first.
“Bailey.” Her name comes out rough.
“I’m right here.”
“Tell me to stop.” I lean closer, my forehead nearly touching hers. “Tell me this is a terrible idea and I should let you go back to your room.”
“No.”
“No?”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
That’s all the permission I need.
I close the remaining distance and kiss her. This time, it’s not desperate or heated kisses. We’re simply holding each other, sharing the same small pocket of air. Her hands slide up my back, slow and sure, like she’s memorizing something she’s afraid to lose. And the kiss—God, the kiss feels like a seal. Like two people choosing, for once, not to run.
Bailey’s hands come up to frame my face, fingers threading into my hair. I pull her closer, needing her solidity. The kiss deepens. She makesa soft sound that goes straight through me. My hands slide to her waist, feeling the borrowed shirt—my shirt—shift under my touch.
“Daniel,” Bailey breathes against my mouth.
“I know.” I don’t know what I’m agreeing to except that whatever this is between us, I can’t fight it anymore.
She shifts, moving closer until she’s practically in my lap. Her weight against me feels too right.
“I need you to know something,” I say, pulling back just enough to meet her eyes. “You make me want to be brave enough to try to start living.”
Tears shine in her eyes. “That’s the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me.”
“I’m not good at this—”
She kisses me again, stopping the words. When she pulls back, she’s smiling. “You’re doing just fine.”
The world narrows to just her in my arms, London glowing through the windows, the rain pattering against glass. Everything else fades because none of it matters as much as this moment.
“Stay,” I whisper against her lips. “Please stay.”
“I already told you.” She settles more fully against me, head resting on my shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere.”
For the first time in twenty years, I let myself believe it.
15
Bailey
Iwake to the softest light filtering through hotel curtains, wrapped in warmth and the steady rhythm of Daniel’s heartbeat beneath my ear.
For a moment, I just lie there. Daniel’s arm is draped across my waist, holding me close even in sleep. Our legs are tangled together under expensive sheets, and I can feel the rise and fall of his chest with each breath.
This is what peace feels like, I think. After all the chaos, this quiet morning feels like paradise. Daniel stirs beneath me, his hand slowly sliding up my bare back. “You’re awake.”
“So are you.”
“I’ve been awake for a while.” His voice is rough with sleep. “Watching you.”
I lift my head to look at him. His dark hair is messed up from my fingers, and there’s a softness in his expression I’ve never seen before.
