“Nova.”
Her name comes out wrecked. Scraped raw. She freezes mid-turn.
I’m on my feet. I don’t remember standing. I’m down one step, then another, and she’s watching me come toward her like she can’t decide if she should run.
Good instincts. She should run.
I stop close enough to touch. Close enough to see her pupils blow wide, her lips part, the quick rise of her chest as her breathing goes shallow.
“You’re not reading it wrong,” I say. My voice doesn’t sound like mine. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
She looks like she wants to say something but no sound comes out.
I should stop. I should give her space, let her process, be the steady one. That’s who I am. That’s who I’ve always been.
But my hand is already moving.
I watch it like it belongs to someone else—rising, reaching, brushing her jaw with my knuckles. Her skin is so soft it makes my chest ache. Her eyes flutter closed and something inside mesnaps.
Mine. Take her. Claim her. Make her understand she’s yours.
The thoughts come from somewhere deep and dark, somewhere I didn’t know existed. It’s a demand I can’t afford right now. Because that’s not what she deserves. My blood is running hot, too hot, and there’s a pressure building at the base of my skull that feels like—
I don’t know what, but whatever it is wantsout.
I lean in.
Slow. Gentle. Don’t scare her.
I’m bargaining with myself. Negotiating with whatever is clawing at the inside of my ribs, trying to get out.
Just a taste. Just one. Then stop.
My lips brush hers.
The world ends.
She’s soft. So fucking soft. She tastes like lip gloss and something sweeter underneath, something that’s justher, and I want to drown in it. I want toconsume her. I want to pin her against the railing and kiss her until she can’t remember anyone’s name but mine.
I don’t.
I keep it gentle. Soft. A question instead of a demand.
It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done.
She kisses me back—tentative, uncertain, like she’s not quite sure what to do. Like she’s following my lead because she doesn’t…
This is her first kiss.
The realization hits me like a punch to the gut. Herfirst. I’m her first. No one else has ever—
A sound escapes my throat. Something between a groan and a growl. My hand slides from her jaw into her hair, cupping the back of her head, and I have to physically stop myself from deepening the kiss. From taking more. From showing her exactly what I want to do to her.
Gentle. She’s not ready. She doesn’t know.
I’m shaking. Actually shaking. Every muscle in my body is locked tight, fighting the thing inside me that wants to devour her whole.
I pull back.
