“Let me make it real simple,” he said. “You talk about my girl, you talk to me.”
That was it. That was the whole statement.
No apologies. No backpedaling.
He turned with me still in his grasp and kept walking toward the car, cutting through the cameras and noise like it was nothing.
But my heart… it was another story entirely.
When we finally reached the blacked-out SUV Cam had sent for us, he opened the door for me and waited until I was inside before sliding in next to me.
The door slammed shut, muffling the noise outside.
I looked over at him.
His hand was still warm in mine.
“You didn’t have to say that,” I whispered, breath catching.
He leaned back against the seat, bruised and defiant and beautiful in his own unpolished way.
“Yeah,” he said. “I did.”
The car was quiet except for the low hum of the engine and the occasional click of the blinker. We were maybe fifteen minutes from home, but time had stopped somewhere around the moment Kieren reached for my hand.
His fingers brushed mine first—casual, almost. But when I didn’t pull away, he laced our hands together and just held on like he needed the connection to breathe.
We hadn’t said much since the meeting. I didn't think words were necessary. Not after everything that happened, everything he had said.
The driver up front hadn’t spoken a word, professional and focused on the road, probably pretending we didn’t exist. Fine by me.
Kieren shifted slightly in the seat beside me, turning toward me. I could feel his gaze before I met it—heavy and searching.
When I looked up, his eyes were already on my face. And there was that look again. Like I was the only thing tethering him to the ground.
“You okay?” he asked softly, voice pitched low enough just for me. Genuine in tone, so much so it almost made my heart ache.
I nodded, but it felt automatic.
“I will be,” I said.
He gave my hand a squeeze. “We’re almost there.”
“I know.”
And then neither of us spoke. The silence stretched again, thick with everything we weren’t saying.
I could feel the shift before it happened.
Kieren let go of my hand only to reach up, his fingers brushing the hair from my cheek like he couldn’t help himself. My heart stuttered in my chest, and I saw it in his eyes—that pull, that question, that reckless need.
I answered it.
I leaned in first, just enough. And that was all it took.
His mouth met mine halfway, gentle at first. A slow, tentative brush of lips. Testing the waters. But when I didn’t pull back—when I kissed him like I meant it—the temperature changed entirely.
He deepened the kiss like he couldn’t stand not to.
