Because if I say it now—if I tell her Idowant to kiss her—I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop.
And this whole thing only works if wedostop.
So I let it stand. I swallow the truth and nod like I’m calm, collected, unfazed.
“I know you’re not into me like that,” she adds, voice smaller now. “So… I just don’t want you to feel weird.”
I look at her—really look at her.
Her cheeks are flushed. Her lips parted just slightly. She’s fidgeting with the edge of her sleeve, trying to mask nerves she doesn’t realize I can read like sheet music.
God, she’s beautiful.
And she hasno idea.
“If it’s okay with you,” I say carefully, holding her gaze, “I’m fine with it.”
She hesitates.
Then slowly nods. “Okay.”
We step back into place.
Thelights shift. Viktor murmurs something abouttimeless romanceandmoody passion,but I’m not listening.
Because she’s right in front of me again.
And when I place a hand on her waist, she doesn't flinch. She steps closer. Her hand rests gently on my chest. Her thumb brushes the edge of my lapel—whether intentional or nervous, I don’t know.
“On my count,” Viktor says, breathless.
Three. Two. One—
9
OLIVE
Below the Belt
The lights are blinding.
The air is too warm.
And Ash is standing so close I can smell his cologne—subtle and spicy, like cedarwood and something else I can’t name butfeelin the back of my throat.
Viktor is counting down—dramatically, slowly, as if we’re preparing to step off a cliff together.
“Three… two…”
Ash tilts his head slightly, his hand warm and steady on my waist.
I nod once. That’s all I can manage.
“One.”
And then we kiss.
It’s soft.
