My gaze drops to her mouth and then comes back up. I give her a second to move, to tell me no. She doesn’t. If anything, she leans into the counter like she’s bracing for impact.
So I close the distance.
I lean down and kiss her, and it’s soft at first. Careful. Her lips are warm and a little tentative under mine, and then she exhales and melts into it. Her hands come up, one curling lightly into the front of my shirt, and the kiss deepens without either of us pushing it too far.
The world narrows to the press of her mouth and the quiet sound she makes in the back of her throat. My thumb brushes her jaw, and her skin is warm under my touch.
When I pull back, it’s only an inch. Her forehead almost rests against mine. Her eyes are dark and searching.
“Lucky,” she whispers, like my name weighs something now.
I don’t trust my voice for a second, so I just look at her, memorizing the way she fits in the space between my arms. Outside, a car passes and Riot’s voice drifts faintly from the porch, grounding the moment in reality.
But in the kitchen, with her breath still warm against my lips, everything feels suspended.
I force myself to pull back another inch, even though every instinct in me says stay right where I am. My hands are still braced on the counter on either side of her, and she’s looking at me like the kiss knocked the air out of both of us.
“I gotta get Riot back to his bike,” I say quietly. The words feel rough coming out. “And you need to get some sleep. You’ve got work in the morning.”
Reality settles between us, soft but unavoidable.
She nods, and there’s a slow smile spreading across her mouth. It’s warm and a little shy and it hits me square in the chest. “Yeah,” she says. “You’re probably right.”
I brush my thumb once along her jaw before I step back, giving her space even though I don’t really want to. “I’ll text you when I get home.”
“Okay,” she says, and her fingers curl lightly around the edge of the counter like she’s grounding herself. Then her gaze lifts to mine. “Thank you again. For everything.”
There’s weight behind it. The door. Dinner. The nightmare. The kiss. All of it wrapped up in two simple words.
“You don’t gotta thank me,” I tell her.
“I know,” she says softly. “I still want to.”
I huff a quiet breath and shake my head, but I’m smiling. “Get some sleep, firecracker.”
She walks us to the door, and when she presses her finger to the lock it clicks open smooth and easy. I step out onto the porch and Riot looks up from where he’s leaning against the railing.
“We good?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I say, glancing back at her one last time. She’s standing in the doorway, arms wrapped around herself, watching us with that same soft smile.
“Drive safe,” she says.
“Always,” I reply.
The door closes behind us with a solid, satisfying thunk, and I listen to the lock engage. Strong. Secure. I head down the steps with Riot at my side, but my mind is still in that kitchen, replaying the feel of her lips and the way she said my name.
FOURTEEN
SAVANNAH
It’s beentwo days since I’ve seen Lucky, and it’s ridiculous how much that fact crawls under my skin.
I tell myself I’m being dramatic while I stand at my kitchen counter pretending to care about the mail spread out in front of me. Bills. Grocery coupons. A flyer I’m never going to read. My phone sits face up beside the pile, and my eyes keep drifting to it like it might light up if I stare hard enough.
He’s been calling and texting me nonstop. Good morning messages that hit before my alarm. Quick check ins during the day. A couple late night calls where his voice drops low and warm in my ear and makes my stomach do stupid things. He’s been busy with club work, running jobs for the Iron Reapers, and every time he apologizes for not being able to come over I tell him it’s fine.
And it is. Mostly. But the house feels quieter without him in it. I keep catching myself looking at the front door like I expect to hear his knock. The new steel door. My door. The one he and Riot installed. Every time I lock it with my fingerprint I think about the way he stood so close behind me, guiding my hand.
