“Do you want to kiss me?” Vivian asked with Jo’s borrowed bravery.
For a beat, Bryn didn’t move. Her entire body tightened and her gaze darted between Vivian’s eyes and her lips in open disbelief. “Do you?” she asked in a breathy rush.
Vivian grinned. “Don’t start asking silly questions now,” she whispered, seductive tone sliding into place before she could stop it.
Bryn didn’t surge forward. She leaned in slowly as if unsure it was really happening. Moistening her lips, Vivian closed the sliver left between them.
The first touch of Bryn’s lips was so gentle. She moved carefully, tentatively. A light press like she was testing her footing before going down a mountain. The tiny sound she made against Vivian’s mouth made her ache to feel all of her at once. To give in to the long-lost feeling of being consumed. Maybe Bryn wouldn’t be a wildfire. Maybe she’d be a controlled blaze set to burn away the old and nourish the soil.
When Bryn exhaled, the kiss changed. It deepened on a breath and Vivian was unprepared for the heat that immediately escaped her grasp. Bryn’s mouth grew sure. Each moment a destabilizing confession.
Vivian balled her hands into fists she kept uselessly in her lap. But Bryn wasn’t afraid of touching her. Bryn’s fingertips hovered near Vivian’s jaw, her glancing touch more fuel on the wild flames.
Entire nervous system screamingcareful, Vivian knew she should pull away. But she couldn’t move. Didn’t want to move.
Then Bryn touched her in earnest. Her palm cupped Vivian’s cheek, warm and solid, thumb skimming the corner of Vivian’s mouth like she was memorizing it. Like Vivian was real. Like Vivian was hers for this small, impossible moment.
Something in Vivian cracked. Opening and closing at the same time.
The intimacy was too much. It was more than a kiss. It was being held. Being steadied. Being treated like something worth gentleness.
Vivian broke the kiss on a sharp inhale.
Bryn froze instantly, hand still on her face, eyes wide. “Sorry. Did I?—”
“No,” Vivian said too fast. Her voice sounded wrong, scraped raw. She couldn’t let Bryn apologize. She couldn’t let Bryn think she’d done anything wrong when the wrongness lived entirely inside Vivian. “No, you didn’t.”
Her heart was a fist pounding against a locked door.
Vivian reached up and caught Bryn’s wrist. Not to push. Not to punish. Just to remove the danger with as much care as she could manage. She guided Bryn’s hand away from her face and folded it between both of her own.
She squeezed her hand, offering pressure. Gravity. Relief from the intensity building too fast.
Bryn let her. Her gaze flicked to their hands, then back to Vivian’s eyes like she was trying to read the rules in a language she didn’t speak.
“Thank you,” Vivian said, because it was the only sentence she could find that didn’t beg or bleed. “For… that.”
Bryn blinked. She laughed, but it was a small, nervous gurgle. “Vivian.” Her cheeks were bright, her lips pink and parted in invitation. “I think I’m the one who should be thanking you.” Her smile flickered into something playful. Something Vivian hated to chase away. “Also,” Bryn added, like she was testing the air, “if you liked that…”
Vivian’s stomach clenched.
Bryn barreled on, not seeing the flinch, only the heat. “Wait until you see what else I’ve got.”
Vivian managed a sound that could have been a laugh if her body wasn’t still shaking. “Dangerous,” she murmured, and meant it in every possible way.
Bryn’s eyes shone. She leaned forward again—hopeful, inevitable—and Vivian felt herself start to go under.
She couldn’t let herself sink, no matter how good it felt. Even cats only have so many lives.
Vivian inhaled and forced herself upright. She let Bryn’s fingers slide from hers before she could cling. She stood because standing was distance, and distance was salvation.
Bryn’s expression changed, confusion replacing the flirty tone. “Hey?—”
Vivian cut in before Bryn could reach for the wrong explanation. Before she could reach for Vivian at all.
“You were right,” Vivian said, voice steadier now that she’d put space between them. “About the booth. About the trust.” It hurt to meet Bryn’s direct gaze, but Vivian didn’t let herself shy away. “You’re not pretending. You’re not manipulating anyone. People are going to believe you because you mean every word you say.”
Bryn stared up at her in open confusion. In disappointment.
