"Maybe that's the point. Maybe you need to let go to find out."
"Is that what you did? When you left Seattle?"
He shifts, pulling the blanket tighter. "Yeah. And it destroyed me. I was so burned out I couldn't sleep, couldn't eat, couldn't function. My ex left because I 'wasn't ambitious anymore.' It took me two years in Evergreen Lakes to feel human again."
"Do you ever miss it? The corporate life?"
"Never. But I learned something dangerous after I left."
"What?"
"That it's safer never to care too much about anything. Career, person, dream—if you don't invest, it can't hurt you." He looks at me. "So I became the easy-going guide who takes nothing seriously. Including people."
"That sounds lonely too."
"It is." His voice is raw. "But it's safe."
We're staring at each other across the fire, and I realize we're the same. Two people so scared of pain that we built different kinds of armor—mine rigid, his casual—but armor, nonetheless.
"I don't want to be safe anymore," I whisper. "I want to feel something."
"Avery—"
"I felt something. When you told me I did well. When you explained your breakdown. When you look at me like..." I trail off, heart hammering.
"Like what?"
"Like maybe I'm not the Ice Queen you thought I was."
Brennan sets down his tea, and suddenly he's closer, the firelight casting shadows on his face. "You were never whatI thought. From the first moment, you challenged every assumption I had."
"Is that good or bad?"
"Terrifying," he admits. "Because you make me want to care again. And that's the most dangerous thing I can feel."
We're inches apart now, the space between us electric.
"What if we were brave?" I hear myself say. "Just for tonight. What if we let go?"
"Avery, we're stranded in a storm. Adrenaline makes people do things they regret—"
"This isn't adrenaline. This is me being honest for the first time in my life." I touch his face, feel his beard scratch my palm. "I want this. I want you. If you want—"
He kisses me, and it’s fire meeting ice, creating steam. His hands frame my face, gentle despite the intensity, and I open to him like I've been waiting for this my entire life.
We break apart, breathing hard.
"We should stop," Brennan says, but doesn't move away. "This is a bad idea. Storm brain. Survival situation."
"Or maybe it's the first honest thing either of us has done in years."
"Avery—"
"I'm scared," I admit. "Terrified. But I'm more scared of going back to who I was. Of never knowing what this could be."
He searches my face, and I see the moment he decides.
"Okay," he breathes. "Okay. But we do this right. We do this honestly."
