I’d spent my whole life being reduced to my curves. Being looked at, commented on, grabbed. I’d kept everyone at arm’s length because no one had ever proven they wanted more than what was on the surface. And now, in the span of one night, I’d let all those walls come crashing down for a man I barely knew.
What if I’d made a mistake?
T.J. appeared in the kitchen doorway, two mugs in hand. He started to say something, then stopped. His eyes found mine, and whatever he saw there made his expression shift.
“Dagger,” he said, without looking away from me, “give us a minute.”
My brother glanced between us, reading the room. “I’ll be on the porch.”
The door closed behind him. T.J. set the mugs on the side table and crossed to where I stood, stopping close enough that I had to tilt my head back to meet his eyes.
“Talk to me.”
I shook my head, not trusting my voice.
“Charisma.” He cupped my face in both hands, his thumbs brushing my cheekbones. “Whatever’s going on in your head right now, say it. I’d rather hear it than watch you disappear behind your eyes.”
The words tumbled out before I could stop them. “What if this was a mistake? What if I’m just—what if you just wanted?—”
I couldn’t finish. Couldn’t make myself say it out loud.
Something fierce flashed in his eyes. “You think last night was just physical for me?”
“I don’t know,” I whispered. My voice cracked. “I don’t know how to tell the difference. No one’s ever wanted anything else from me.”
He was quiet for a moment. Then he leaned down, looking me in the eye, and when he spoke, his voice was low and rough and absolutely certain.
“I spent three years not wanting anything. Not connection, not comfort, not another human being within ten feet of me. Then you knocked on my door, and I took one look at you and knew my life was never going to be the same.”
His thumbs stroked my cheeks, gentle despite the intensity in his voice.
“It’s not your body, Charisma,” he continued. “I mean—yes, your body is—” He let out a breath that was almost a laugh. “But that’s not why I can’t let you go. It’s you. The woman who walked up a driveway in the snow to tell a stranger she hit his mailbox. The woman who stood up for herself even when the whole world told her she was wrong. The woman who showed me a video of her worst moment because she trusted me to see her. That’s what I want. That’s what I’m choosing. If you’ll let me.”
The tears spilled over. I couldn’t help it. No one had ever said anything like that to me. No one had ever seen me—really seen me—and wanted to stay.
“I’m scared,” I whispered.
“I know.” He kissed my forehead, soft and lingering. “Be scared. I’ll wait. I’m not going anywhere.”
I pulled back just enough to look at him. This gruff, solitary man who’d spent three years hiding from the world. Who’d opened his door to a stranger in a snowstorm. Who’d just told my brother—a man he’d never met—that he wasn’t letting me go.
“I don’t want to go back to Springfield,” I said.
“Then don’t.”
“I don’t have anywhere to live. I don’t have a job. I don’t have anything except a viral video and a car that’s probably buried in snow.”
“You have a brother who wants you here. You’re in a cabin that’s got plenty of room.” He paused, something warm flickering in his eyes. “You have me. If you want me.”
I thought about all the reasons this was crazy. I’d known him less than a day. I’d just fled my entire life. The internet was still tearing me apart, and I had no plan, no savings, no safety net.
But I also thought about the way he’d looked at me last night. The way he’d been angry on my behalf. The way he’d touched me like I was precious—like I mattered—like I was more than a body to be used.
“Yeah,” I said, my voice steadier than I expected. “I want you.”
His smile was slow and devastating. “Good. Because I was going to work my ass off until I convinced you.”
He kissed me then, slow and deep. When we finally broke apart, I was smiling against his mouth.
