The question hits straight through me. It's so gentle and so painful in the way truth can be. I open my eyes, and she’s watching me with a patience that makes me want to look away.
She slides her hand along my arm until she reaches my elbow. The gesture is steady and intimate and grounding in a way that frightens me with how much I want it.
"It makes sense," she says. "You went through something impossible."
I look at her, really look at her, and something inside me loosens just enough that the ache in my chest eases.
"You don't have to carry it alone," she adds.
I almost laugh, but the sound never escapes. "I've been carrying it alone for a long time."
"Then let me take a little." Her voice is soft but certain.
Her kindness cracks something open inside me. I take a slow breath, then another, and realize the only reason I'm breathing easier is that she is here.
Her hand drifts down to my wrist again. Her thumb slides lightly over my skin. It's nothing, and at the same time it’s everything. My heart feels too big in my chest, my thoughts slow until all I can feel is the warmth of her body near mine and the quiet steadiness in her eyes.
She meets my gaze, and her own breath quickens. The air shifts between us, is thick and charged, like the bakery has become its own world where time moves differently.
"Dylan," she whispers.
The way she says my name is a pull I cannot resist. I reach up and cup her cheek, her skin is soft under my thumb. She leans into the touch like she has been waiting for it all day. She looks up at me with her lips parted, and that is all it takes.
I kiss her.
It starts slow, like I'm learning the shape of her mouth, the taste of her lips, the way she inhales when my thumb strokes her jaw. But the softness shifts quickly. She slides her hands up my chest and fists them in my shirt. She pulls me closer until her body is pressed against mine, and the kiss deepens into something hungry and fierce.
Her lips part beneath mine. I taste her breath. I feel the tremble in her fingers. The world narrows to the warmth of her mouth and the smell of frosting on my hands and the sound of her soft, surprised sigh when my tongue finds hers.
My pulse pounds as I've stepped into a fire I cannot control.
She presses her hips subtly against mine, and the contact sends a surge of heat straight through me. The kind of surge that wants to drag her onto the prep table and lock the doors behind us. The kind of surge that could burn down everything I've been trying to protect.
I pull back before I lose control entirely. Our breaths brush each other's lips.
Her eyes are dark and wide. "Why did you stop?"
The question nearly undoes me.
"Because I want too much," I say. "And I can't afford to want more than I can give."
She swallows. Her hand rests over my chest. "What if I want too much too?"
My breath catches. The honesty in her voice is something I was not prepared for.
"Piper," I say quietly, "you’re only here for a few weeks."
Her expression shifts, like something inside her knows that is only half the truth. "Maybe," she says. "Or maybe I'm here for something else."
The thought hits hard enough that I've to look away. I take a step back and scrub a hand over my face.
"I need to think," I mutter.
She nods, but there is a faint tremble in her breath. "I get it."
She turns toward the door. I watch her walk away, and something in my chest feels like it's being pulled out by hand.
"Piper," I say.
