“Aurora—what are you—”
“You were gone,” she cried out, voice breaking. “You were gone for so long, and it was raining, and you don’t like the rain, and—” Her breath hitched. “And I thought something happened.”
God.
That tiny, trembling voice shattered me.
I took two steps forward before she could say another word and pulled her into my chest, kitten and all. She gasped softly but clung to me right away, fists clutching my soaked hoodie like she needed proof I was really there.
“Hey, hey,” I whispered against her hair. “I’m okay. I’m right here, yeah? You shouldn’t have come out, Princess.”
“But you—” she mumbled into my chest, her voice muffled and shaking, “you were gone for half an hour.”
I sighed and pulled back just enough to look at her face. Raindrops hung off her lashes, her lips trembling, cheeks flushed pink from the cold.
“You’re drenched,” I said softly. “You shouldn’t be out here; it’s freezing.”
“I don’t care,” she whispered. “I thought you weren’t okay.”
I shook my head, exhaling a small laugh that was half choked with relief, half disbelief. “You’re insane, you know that?”
She looked up, confused, and before she could ask why, I leaned down and kissed her. Not the kind of kiss that started fast or rough, but the kind that happens when you can’t believe someone loves you that much.
The rain hit our skin harder, cold against the warmth of her mouth, her soft lips parting against mine as I pulled her closer. She tasted sweet. Like rain and tears and everything soft, I didn’t deserve.
When I finally pulled back, I pressed my forehead to hers, both of us breathing hard. “Let’s get them all cleaned up, yeah?”
She nodded, eyes glassy but calmer now, and I smiled faintly, handing her the kitten.
She cradled the little black fur ball instantly, whispering to it as if it were made of glass. “You’re safe now, baby. You’re okay.”
And I… folded.
Completely.
For Honey.
For this tiny stray.
For the girl standing barefoot in the rain with a kitten in her arms, who thought about me before herself.
I slipped an arm under her knees, another around her back, and lifted her bridal-style. She gasped softly, looking up at me, and I just shook my head.
“Don’t argue,” I muttered, walking toward the elevator with her in my arms. “You’re soaked.”
She smiled against my shoulder, still petting the kitten as we stepped inside. By the time the doors closed, she’d tucked her head under my chin, whispering softly to the kitten about ‘how brave he was’ and ‘how proud Honey will be.’
I glanced down at her, the girl who made me walk through the rain for a cat and made it worth every damn second, and couldn’t help but smile. It was so ridiculous, but she was just so precious.
She made Joshua Lockhart worship her, and that—that was impossible.
Just not to her.
Chapter Sixty-Two
Joshua
The bathroom was fogged up, steam rolling off the tiles, the sound of the shower mixing with the soft splashes from the sink.
