Careful.
Not assuming anything.
I look at him—really look at him.
The way he’s trying not to crowd me.
The way his fingers twitch like he wants to reach for me but won’t unless I ask.
The way his eyes keep darting from my mouth to my eyes and back, like he’s terrified to want what he clearly wants.
“Company,” I whisper.
He moves slowly, like approaching a wounded animal—which annoys me and touches me at the same time.
He sits beside me, knees brushing mine.“Can I...?”he starts, then trails off.
I lean into him first.
His breath catches.
Finn touches my thigh lightly, like I might break under his hand.I press closer.
“You don’t have to be careful,” I murmur.
His exhale comes out ragged.“If I’m not careful with you, I’ll never forgive myself.”
I turn toward him.“Finn.”
He swallows.Hard.“Yeah?”
“You can kiss me.”
His eyes flash—bright, desperate, relieved—and then his hands cradle my face like I’m something he’s been waiting his whole life to touch.
The kiss starts soft.
It does not stay soft.
Finn kisses like he feels everything.
Like emotion is fuel.
Like he’s been wanting this and holding it back for too long.
My fingers twist in his shirt.He makes a sound—a low, helpless groan—and pulls me onto his lap.His hands slide along my hips, up my back, over my waist.Not grabbing.Not demanding.Just hungry in a way that sets every nerve in my body on fire.
He pulls back slightly, forehead resting against mine.His breathing is uneven.“Tell me to stop,” he whispers, voice frayed.
I shake my head, pulling him back in.
He kisses me again—deeper, slower, a kind of worship that makes my chest ache.His thumb sweeps the side of my waist.I feel the heat roll through him like a wave.His lips trail along my jaw, down my neck, lingering where my pulse jumps.
“Wren,” he murmurs against my skin, “if we keep going...”
I tug his shirt.“Don’t stop.”
His control snaps like a thread.
