“Sorry?” I whisper.
“You annoy the hell out of me,” he says, dead serious.
A watery laugh shoots out of me. “Likewise.”
“But I like you,” he says, quieter. “More than I meant to. More than I planned.”
My whole world stops.
“And whether you believe it or not,” he finishes, “your damage doesn’t make me want to run.”
My vision goes blurry again. “Ethan…”
He doesn’t look away this time. “I protect the people who matter to me.”
The words hit me like a physical thing—solid, warm, terrifying, perfect.
“And you matter.”
And for the first time in a very, very long time…I believe that someone means it.
I don’t think. I don’t weigh the consequences. I don’t analyze or protect myself or try to be clever.
I just move.
I lean in—slow at first, like I’m giving him time to stop me—but he doesn’t. His eyes flick to my mouth, just for a second, and that’s all it takes.
My lips press to his.
It’s soft at the start, trembling, a question. But he answers it instantly.
Ethan exhales through his nose—this low, rough sound—and his hand comes up, warm and certain, sliding to the back of my head. His fingers weave into my damp hair, holding me there like he can’t risk the universe pulling me away.
The kiss deepens, pulls me under.
He tastes like coffee and something steadier than anything I’ve ever known.
My whole body leans into him, as if gravity shifts around him. My knees bump his. My hands find his shoulders—broad and solid and stupidly comforting—, and I cling without meaning to.
He tilts his head, angling me closer, and the heat of him rolls through me so fast my breath stutters. His thumb brushes the base of my skull, gentle but claiming, and my heart just… gives up fighting.
I inch forward until I’m nearly in his lap, pressed against the firm line of his chest. He’s huge compared to me, all muscle and warmth, and for the first time in forever, the size of someone doesn’t intimidate me—it shelters me.
His other hand settles at my waist, fingers spreading, grounding me so completely I feel my pulse drop into rhythm with his.
God.
I didn’t know a kiss could feel like safety and desire and breaking open all at once.
I’m breathing hard when I finally tear my mouth from his, my forehead slipping against his cheek. His breath hits my skin, hot and uneven.
“Lucky…” he murmurs, voice wrecked and low.
I shake my head, fingers curling in his shirt. “I had to,” I whisper, my voice trembling. “I couldn’t sit here one second longer without—without—”
He pulls back just enough to look at me, his hand still tangled in my hair, thumb brushing gently at the nape of my neck.
“Without what?” he asks, voice soft but edged with something deeper. Something he’s been holding back for too damn long.
