“I have leftover Thai in the fridge,” I say finally. “You drove three hours. When did you last eat?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Finn.”
“There were more important things.”
I shake my head, but I’m almost smiling as I stand. “Stay here. I’ll heat something up.”
His hand catches my wrist. Gentle. A question, not a demand.
“Marcella.”
I look down at him—this man who drove through a city that terrifies him, who’s sitting on my secondhand couch looking lost and hopeful and completely out of his element.
“Thank you,” he says. “For listening. For not slamming the door in my face.”
“I thought about it.”
“I know.” His thumb traces a small circle on my wrist. “I would have deserved it.”
“Yes. You would have.”
But I don’t pull away. And when he tugs gently, I let him draw me closer until I’m standing between his knees, looking down at his upturned face.
“I’m still angry,” I warn him.
“I know.”
“I’m still scared.”
“I know.”
“This doesn’t mean everything’s fixed.”
“I know.” He reaches up, his hand hovering near my face, not quite touching. Asking permission. “But can I?—”
I close the distance myself, pressing my lips to his.
The kiss is soft at first. Tentative. Nothing like the desperate collision in the hallway. This is a question, and I’m not sure of my answer yet.
But God, I’ve missed him. It’s only been a day, but my body remembers his touch like it’s been years.
“Marcella.” My name comes out rough against my mouth. “We don’t have to?—“
“I know we don’t have to.” I pull back just enough to meet his eyes. “I want to. But Finn—this doesn’t mean I’m not still scared, or that I trust you completely. I’m not there yet.”
“I understand.”
“I’m not giving you all of me tonight. I can’t. But I can give you this.”
His hands cup my face, thumbs brushing my cheekbones. “Then I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give. And I’ll earn the rest.”
It’s the right answer. Maybe the only answer that could have made me lean back in.
The kiss deepens. His fingers slide into my hair, and I grab fistfuls of his flannel, pulling him up from the couch. We stumble toward my bedroom, a graceless dance of need andhesitation. He pauses at the doorway, and I realize he’s giving me another out. Another chance to stop this.
I take his hand and pull him through.
