Not her.
Not this.
Not us.
Even if it ruins everything.
Chapter 19
Violet
Jason’s hands settle on my waist as we sway under the open sky, and I nearly forget how to breathe.
There’s no music, just the wind moving through the tall grass, the distant rustle of the sanctuary fences, the soft swish of the blanket under our feet. When I rest my head against his chest, I hear the quiet thrum of his heartbeat, and his warmth wraps around me like he was built for this. Built for holding me. Built for grounding someone who hasn’t felt grounded in a very long time.
The cool night air moves over my damp skin, and for one fleeting, impossible moment, it feels like the stars themselves are brushing against me, leaving tiny kisses of cold light dancing along my arms, my neck, and my cheeks. Like the whole sky is leaning close, blessing this moment, urging me deeper into it.
His palms move in slow, reassuring strokes along my sides, each pass smoothing all the jagged pieces inside me. I can feel the heat of him through my clothes, smell the spicy, earthy scent of his skin. It’s overwhelming, dizzying. I hadn’t expected this. Any of this. Not the dancing. Not the closeness. Not the way my body reacts, like it recognizes something I’ve always wanted.
He exhales against my hair, a soft sound that’s almost a sigh. I feel it more than I hear it, brushing across the top of my ear, sending a shiver straight down my spine.
“You okay?” he murmurs.
I nod against his chest. “More than okay.”
His hand slides up my back, fingers tracing a slow, thoughtful line along my shoulder blade, like he’s getting to know me through touch alone. I feel him swallow, a subtle, warm shifting of muscle against my cheek and something inside me tips again, deeper this time, into that soft, terrifying territory where affection starts turning into something else.
“I don’t dance often,” I whisper, unsure why I’m confessing, only that it feels safe. “But… this feels right.”
His thumb brushes my waist. “It does.”
Just two words.
But they land low in my belly, settling like truth.
The breeze lifts my hair as we sway. The quiet spreads around us like a cocoon, unreal in the best way. And for the first time in over a year, I don’t feel broken. I feel wanted. Seen in all the ways that matter.
“I could get used to this,” I whisper.
His breath catches, so quietly most people would miss it. But I don’t. I feel it against my temple.
“So could I,” he murmurs.
Something inside my chest breaks open.
I tilt my face up toward him, feeling for his breath, and when I find it, when he leans in that tiny fraction.
When he stiffens, I do, too. Did I read this wrong? I was sure I didn’t.
“Uh-oh.”
“Uh-oh?” I echo right as thunder punches the earth so hard it vibrates up my legs, and a sheet of icy rain slams down on us from nowhere.
“Oh my god!” I squeal as the cold water drenches me.
Jason covers me with the blanket but it’s no use. It’s like someone has poured a bucket of water over my head.
“I’ll grab the stuff. Run!”
