"Yeah."
"I am very aware of you right now," she said, because subtlety had never been her strong suit, and she was too exhausted to pretend otherwise."More aware than I should probably be, given everything."
His mouth pulled into a hint of a smile, just the corner lifting."I'm aware of you, too.Have been since I carried you out of Norman House."
She stared at his lips for a moment, then dragged her gaze back to his eyes."This is probably a bad idea."
"Probably," he agreed."You've been through hell.You're vulnerable.You're staying in my house.There are about fifteen reasons why I should get up and go back to my room right now."He paused."But if you want me to, you have to say it.Tell me to back off, and I will.No hurt feelings.No weirdness tomorrow."
She heard the promise under the words.No pressure.No pushing.He was handing her all the power and asking nothing in return except honesty.
When was the last time anyone had done that for her?
Her fingers bunched in his shirt again, unconsciously pulling him closer."I don't want you to back off."
Something in his expression shifted.Wariness giving way to relief, relief giving way to heat.The combination was heady, intoxicating, more powerful than anything she'd felt in years.
"Okay," he said quietly, his voice dropping half an octave."Then we go slow.You lead.Anything you don't want, we stop.Anything you need, you tell me."
Her heart climbed into her throat, pounding so hard she was sure he could feel it through her palm where it still rested on his chest."I don't remember how to lead.It's been so long since anyone let me."
"I think you do," he said."But I'll meet you halfway.We'll figure it out together."
He gave her time to change her mind.He just sat there, arm around her, his palm resting warm and solid at the curve of her waist.Not advancing.Not retreating.Just present.
Her pulse thudded against her ribs, a drumbeat of anticipation and terror and something else, something that felt dangerously close to hope.
She lifted one hand to his face, her thumb brushing the softness of his beard along his jaw.The texture was fascinating, silky-soft against her skin, and she traced its line from his chin to his ear.
His eyes closed for a second, lashes dark against his cheeks, like that simple touch had hit him harder than it should have.Like he'd been waiting for it, maybe, without knowing he was waiting.
"Is this okay?"she asked.
"Yeah," he said, his voice rougher now, catching on the word."More than okay."
She leaned in.The first brush of her mouth against his was barely there.A test.A question asked in the language of skin and breath and the space between heartbeats.
He answered with a low exhale, warm against her lips.
His lips were warm and patient.He didn't surge forward or take control.He let her press in, let her learn the shape of his mouth in slow, tentative passes.Her hand slid from his jaw to his neck, fingers curling lightly at the back where his hair shortened into soft stubble.
He made a sound then, quiet and low in his chest, and it lit up every nerve ending she'd thought she'd packed away in boxes marked "do not open."
The kiss remained gentle, but there was depth in it.Honesty.No performance, no angles, no calculation about what she was supposed to be feeling or doing.Just two people meeting in the middle of the night, finding something real in the wreckage.
She pulled back a fraction, her breath shallow, her lips tingling."I'm not...I don't want to do this because I'm scared.I don't want this to be about running from something."
"I know," he said."Do you want to stop?"
She shook her head slowly, deliberately."I want to remember what it feels like to want something that isn't bad for me.To choose something instead of having it chosen for me.I want..."She struggled for the words."I want to feel like myself again.Whoever that is now."
His hand tightened at her waist, fingers pressing gently into the fabric of her sleep shirt."You're not bad for me, Sabrina."
"I meant the other way around," she whispered."I don't want to be stupid.I don't want to make another mistake because I'm lonely and scared, and you're here being kind."
"You're not stupid," he said, the words fierce in their quietness."Not even close.And this isn't kindness.Kindness was letting you stay in my spare room.This is..."He paused, searching for the right word."This is wanting.I want you.I've wanted you since I walked into that hospital room and found you staring at the wall like you were trying to see through it to somewhere better."
Her breath caught on something that might have been a sob or might have been a laugh."That's a terrible first impression."
