I don’t cry. Not fully. But I shake.
“I’ve got you,” Xaden murmurs, his breath warm against my temple. His voice is low, rough, almost pleading. Like insisting it will make it true. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”
I look up at him, eyes wet, legs trembling. He looks back like I’m the only thing tethering him to this earth.
I don’t even give myself time to think. My body decides before my brain can argue. I lean in, brush my lips against his. Soft. Careful.
It’s the kind of kiss you give when you’re not sure the other person will still be there tomorrow, but you need them to know they matter today. He breathes in sharply, then kisses me back just as gently — trembling, reverent, almost afraid to want more.
It reminds me of our first kiss, all those years ago, under the stars.When we part, our foreheads rest together, and we just breathe.
His fingers are still trembling on my back.“Cole,” he whispers. My name like it’s holy and broken at the same time.
“I won’t let you go through this alone,” I say.
His eyes close, his jaw tight. “That’s what scares me,” he murmurs.
“Well, tough,” I say. “You don’t get to be scared of that. Not anymore. Because I’m not walking away.”
We stand together for a moment longer. The world outside keeps spinning — Willard, secrets, my dad, the danger ahead.
But right now, in this breath, it’s just us.
And that’s more than enough.
XADEN
I park down the street from Cole’s house. Suddenly, I’m nervous.First-date nervous.Which is stupid, because this isn’t a date. Cole just wants to show me something. So. Not a date.
Although we kissed. Like we were still teenagers experiencing the wonder of touching another person’s lips with your own.
I can’t stop thinking about it. How Cole instinctively knew how to give me the very thing I needed the most.
I catch my reflection in the side mirror and rake a hand through my hair, somehow making it worse.
Still not a date, dude.
Warm light spills from the windows. I take a breath and head up the walk. Cole opens the door before I can knock.
Sweatpants, a worn-out Blondie sweater, hair still damp from a shower. He looks tired. He looks beautiful. My chest does that dumb flip and I tell it to behave.
“Hey,” he says, offering a small smile.
“Hey,” I say, suddenly not sure what to do with all my limbs. I hand out the chocolate I grabbed while shopping for Frankie. Cole blinks, surprised; a blush creeps in. “This is my favorite.”
“I know.”
God.I couldn’t be less subtle if I tried.
“Is Noah asleep?” I ask before I accidentally propose.
Saying Noah’s name feels like touching a live wire — too intimate, too revealing. Cole nods, leading me into the kitchen.
“You want anything? Tea, coffee… room-temperature milk?”
I laugh, startled. “You remember that?”
“It’s burned into my memory,” he says dryly. “There’s a whole collection, the best of Cole’s awkward moments.”
