We grin at each other for a moment, before I recover and hitch my shoulder toward the vineyards.
We walk in silence. It’s kind of comfortable, but also filled with tension. He is giving me space, I know that. I understand the ball is in my court. I just don’t quite know how to serve it.
We climb up the hill and turn to admire the rolling hills. The olive trees rustle in the background, and I inhale the fresh air.
I’m content. Almost completely happy.
Just one thing missing. I turn to Xander, and all my thoughts come to a halt when I meet his intense gaze.
While I was admiring the view, he was staring at me. “Are you okay?”
“I’d really like to kiss you,” he breathes, his voice low, a little rough.
My breath catches.
He’s not assuming. Not leaning in already. He’s waiting. That shouldn’t undo me the way it does.
The air fills with anticipation, but also something else, like we’re worried the kiss may not feel the same.Like it may bring all the damage to the surface. At least, that’s where my hesitation lies.
But we need to leap. I swallow. “Okay.”
He steps closer.
His hand brushes my cheek, fingertips trailing along my jaw like he’s reading me in Braille.
When his mouth meets mine, it’s not urgent. It’s reverent. His lips are soft, his kiss patient—like he’s testing where it will lead us.
And the moment deepens naturally, our bodies sighing in relief.
My hand finds the lapel of his jacket, gripping it as his mouth opens slightly, deepening the kiss. His other arm circles my waist, pulling me flush against him.
I feel the sharp inhalation of his breath against my skin.
And just like that, the space between want and need disappears.
Too fast.
I press my hand against his chest.
“Xander,” I whisper, pulling back just an inch. My lips are tingling, my heart galloping.
He stills immediately, eyes locked on mine, searching.
“I want to take this slowly,” I say, voice quieter now. “Not because I don’t want you. But because… I do, but I’m still waiting for—” I don’t want to say it. I don’t believe he’d break me again, but something in me still resists.
My instincts scream at me to have faith, but Ethan and my father broke that inner confidence. And to a certain extent, Xander did too.
His thumb brushes the edge of my jaw. “Then slow is exactly what we’ll do.”
My chest tightens. With relief. With regret. With the first tender rays of trust.
“Okay,” I breathe.
We walk down the hill holding hands. It’s strange, and completely normal at the same time.
“Are you hungry?” he asks when we reach the estate.
As if on cue, my stomach growls, and we both laugh. “Do you want to walk to the village and eat our weight in pizza?”
