It’s immediate. Violent in its own quiet way.
Because I’ve been running from men who looked at me like a thing, and now I’m staring at a man who looks at me like I’m real.
Like I matter.
The cold is still in my bones. My bare feet still ache. My whole body is shaking.
But the world tilts anyway.
For one insane second, all I can think is, I died out there.
I collapsed in the pines. I froze on this porch.
And this is heaven.
Not wings. Not halos.
Just a door opening into warmth, and a man in the light who looks like he could stop the world with his hands.
His gaze flicks down, quick. Bare feet. Torn hoodie. My shaking hands.
Then back to my face.
Something changes in him, fast and unreadable.
He steps forward.
My knees fold at the same time, like my body has been waiting for permission to quit.
Everything goes unsteady at once.
Arms catch me before I hit the boards. Strong and sure, wrapping around me like a shield. Heat presses into my cheek, into my chest, into my hands where they clutch at his leather cut. The warmth of him is shocking after the cold, so real it makes my eyes sting.
I breathe once, a shaky inhale, and he smells clean under the cold air, like soap and woodsmoke.
His hold tightens, not crushing. Certain.
And as the dark rolls in, the last thing I register is his body between me and everything else, and the steady beat of his heart against my ear like a promise I don’t deserve to believe.
Chapter 2
Doc
Iopenthedoorand the cold rushes in like it owns the place.
She’s on my porch, barely upright. Hoodie torn at one shoulder, hands scraped raw, blonde hair everywhere like she ran without thinking about what she looked like. Her eyes are huge. Blue. Too bright against her pale face.
Bare feet.
That’s what makes my stomach drop.
A girl doesn’t end up barefoot on a night like this unless something went wrong. Unless she ran hard enough to lose shoes, or someone took them.
Either way, it means fear.
She sways like the porch is moving under her.
I step forward, ready to grab her, but I force myself not to rush. Cornered people bolt. Traumatized people swing. I keep my hands open where she can see them.
