He’d kissed me yesterday, but that was for show, because we didn’t have a choice.
But this kiss. It’s a choice.
No one to convince. Nothing to prove. Just him. Just me.
And when his teeth catch my lower lip, coaxing and savoring, it’s as if he’s relearning me.
My hands, which were gripping his shoulders, slide up his neck.
Oh, his hair, under my hands, it’s silkier and thicker than it has a right to be—slips between my fingers as he tilts his head.
“Turning silver here,” I whisper. Because I’m noticing. That this is us even though we’re both different.
“You like it?” he asks, angling the kiss deeper.
“I do.”
But oh… Closer.Please.
The room tilts, or maybe I do.
Either way, the next second I’m sinking into the mattress, air whooshing out of my lungs as my back meets the duvet. Beckett braces above me—one arm beside my head, the other still cupping my cheek, staring down like I’ll disappear if he lets go.
“Oh, Beckett.” I shouldn’t.
We shouldn’t.Am I just asking for pain?
His eyes meet mine for a heartbeat, and something in my chest folds in on itself.
And instead of pushing him away, I’m melting.
“Ash…” Beckett hums my name.
He shifts, and I’m cradling him with my thighs. My hands map him instinctively—shoulders, chest, jaw.
God, this kiss…
It’s like I’m seventeen again.
Like we’re in the back of his stupid Jeep, fogging up the windows, making out until my lips were swollen and my shirt was unbuttoned and we’d gone too far to turn back. That giddy, electric thrill of knowing we were playing with fire and not caring one damn bit.
I lift my hips, sliding my leg along his, and then I feel it—him. Hard against me.
My breath catches and I reach down, my fingers slipping under the waistband of his sweats.
But his hand closes over mine.
Not rough. Not panicked.
Just… firm.
And the second our eyes meet, everything stills.
His grip isn’t rejection—it’s restraint. And there’s something in his eyes, in the sharp set of his jaw that tells me this isn’t about teasing or control.
“Shit,” he breathes. His eyes squeeze shut, jaw clenched tight. “I can’t.Fuck.”
I blink, stunned. The fog in my head clears just enough to process it.
