I swallow hard, chest rising against his.
“Without showing you,” I say, breathless, “that you matter too. That you… that you’re not the only one who feels something. What I said earlier about you being the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I meant it.”
His eyes go darker—warmer—and his grip tightens ever so slightly, like my words land somewhere he didn’t expect.
He leans in again, mouth hovering over mine, close enough I feel the whisper of his breath.
“Come here,” he murmurs.
And I do—without hesitation.
Chapter 26
Ethan
Hermouthisstillon mine when the world tilts.
Lucky isn’t cautious or calculated—she moves with her whole heart, like she’s been drowning and I’m the first breath she’s had in years. And Christ… I feel it. Every trembling ounce of her pressed against me. Her hands fisted in my shirt. Her breath mixing with mine.
I haven’t been kissed like this in a very long time.
Her lips are warm, soft, desperate. Mine answer before my brain catches up.
I slide my hand deeper into her damp hair, keeping her close because I can feel—actually feel—her shaking. She leans more of her weight on me, chest against my ribs, like she’s terrified I’ll pull away.
I don’t.
I can’t.
Her small body fits against mine as though it’s been waiting for the right place to fall apart. The oversized t-shirt she threw on brushes my forearms, and I swear I can feel every frantic beat of her heart through it.
She shifts closer, climbing into my lap, and a low sound escapes me—half restraint, half surrender. My hand finds her waist, fingerssliding under the hem of the garment unintentionally, meeting the bare heat of her skin.
She gasps.
I go still.
For a second, neither of us moves.
The air thickens, charged, dangerous.
Her forehead rests against mine, breath quick and uneven, her lips parting like she wants more—more contact, more anchoring, more me. And God help me, I want to give it to her.
Her breath is shaking against my mouth, her fingers curled in my shirt like she’s terrified I’ll disappear if she lets go.
I can’t look at her like this—wet hair, tears still drying on her cheeks, her body completely open against mine—and pretend I’m capable of restraint.
Not tonight. Not after everything.
“Lucky…” I mean it as a warning, but it comes out low. Rough. A sound pulled from the center of me.
She looks up at me like I’m the only safe thing she’s ever seen.
That’s what breaks me.
I crush my mouth back to hers.
She gasps into the kiss—surprised, relieved—and her whole body melts forward, pressing flush against me. My hand tightens in her hair, angling her head so I can deepen the kiss, take her mouth properly this time.
