"I know."
Neither of us moves.
"Diesel."
"Yeah?"
She doesn't answer. Just rises up and kisses me.
Not like last night—desperate, hungry, both of us trying to outrun the clock. This is slower. Deliberate. Her mouth warm against mine, her hand sliding up to cup my jaw, her body pressing into me, memorizing the shape of us together.
I let myself have it. Let myself kiss her back without thinking about the trial or the drive or any of the shit waiting outside these walls. Just her mouth. Her hands. The soft sound she makes against my lips.
When she pulls back, her lips are swollen. Her eyes are bright.
"Shower with me."
Three words. My whole body tightens.
"Eden—"
"We have an hour." Her hand slides down my chest. "I don't want to waste it."
I should say no. Should let her get ready, keep her head clear for what's coming.
Instead I follow her to the bathroom.
The cottage's ancient pipes groan when she turns on the water. The shower is barely big enough for one person—two is impossible. We make it work anyway.
I have to hunch to fit under the spray. She laughs at the way my shoulders press against both walls, and the sound breaks me wide open. I'll remember that laugh for the rest of my life.
We don't have time for slow. But we take it anyway—her back against the tile, my hands braced on either side of her, steam rising around us. Water running down green skin and pale. Her nails digging into my shoulders. My name on her lips.
After, I wash her hair. Work the soap through slowly, taking more time than I need to. She leans into my hands, eyes closed, trusting me completely.
I memorize it. All of it. The curve of her spine. The way she sighs when my fingers find her scalp. The weight of her against my chest.
One day wasn't enough. One day of letting myself have this—have her—and I'm already ruined for anything else.
The water runs cold before either of us moves. We dry off without talking—neither of us ready to break the spell. She wraps herself in a towel and I press a kiss to her shoulder, right above the wound, before I make myself walk away.
We don't have time for our usual routine, so instead I cook some eggs in a pan and put toast in the toaster, just in case she's hungry, though I already know she's not.
She appears in the doorway a few minutes later, hair damp, wearing the same clothes she arrived in. Ready to face whatever comes next.
"Smells good."
"Sit. Eat."
She slides into her chair. I set a plate in front of her. Pour her coffee. Two sugars. Splash of milk.
She picks at the eggs. I knew she wouldn't be hungry.
"You gonna miss this place?"
She looks up. Holds my gaze.
"No. Because I'm bringing the best part of it with me."
