“We adapt. Assume they know our moves. Stay ahead of the next.”
Wind whistled through the cracks. The truth settled cold in her chest. It was her fault.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “If I’d listened sooner?—”
“Viv.” His hand caught hers again, firm and steady. “None of this is on you.”
“Maddox was my mentor. Practically my father.”
“And he used that. You couldn’t have seen it.”
“It still feels stupid.”
His thumb brushed her skin. “Your loyalty is something I’ve admired for years.”
Her heart faltered.
“It’s why I spent years trying to find a woman like you. None ever measured up, though.”
Warmth and ache knotted together inside her. “I should’ve trusted you,” she whispered. “You’re my partner.”
He exhaled. “You had every right not to.”
“Don’t do that.”
“It’s true.”
She crossed the room. “Then maybe we start over.”
“You mean that?”
She nodded. “You stop being reckless. I’ll try trusting you. Despite your reputation.”
A faint smile tugged at his mouth. “Most people would take it as a compliment that I think you’re better than anyone I’ve known.”
“I’m not most people.”
“No. You’re not.” He stepped closer, heat radiating off him.
“Blake…” she whispered.
He closed the distance and curled a hand behind her neck, fingers warm against her skin.
He kissed her.
Not gently. Not cautiously. But with the force of everything he'd held back. She breathed him in. And he breathed her in right back.
When he finally drew back, their foreheads touched, breath mingling.
“We shouldn’t have,” she whispered.
“No. But I needed to know.”
“Know what?”
“If it was real.”
Emotion tightened her throat. “And?”
