"It was honest," he said."I like honest."
He shifted, easing them both backward so they were more reclined against the pillows piled at the headboard.He moved slowly, telegraphing every adjustment, letting her feel each motion before he made it.His body stayed braced, giving her all the space to pull away if she changed her mind.
She didn't.
She followed him down, her leg sliding along his over the tangled sheets, her chest pressed against his side.The thin cotton of her sleep shirt did nothing to hide how hard her heart was pounding, how fast her breath was coming.
"Still okay?"he asked, his mouth close to her ear.
"Yeah," she breathed."More than okay."
He kissed her again, deeper this time.His tongue traced the seam of her lips in a question, and she answered by opening to him, by pulling him closer, by letting herself want without apologizing for it.
Heat curled low in her belly, spreading outward along every nerve.It had been so long since she'd felt this, this warmth that wasn't fear, this urgency that wasn't panic.She'd forgotten what it was like to want something just because it felt good, just because she chose it.
Her hand found the hem of his T-shirt and slipped underneath, her palm meeting warm skin over hard muscle.His stomach jumped under her touch, a reflexive tightening, and he sucked in a sharp breath.
"Sabrina," he said, her name coming out rough.
"If this is too much..."she started.
"It's not," he cut in."God, it's not.I just need you to know something before we go any further."
She stilled, her hand flat against his ribs."What?"
"I'm all in if we do this."His eyes held hers, dark and serious."No halfway.No using each other to patch holes, and then pretending it didn't matter in the morning.If this happens, it means something to me.I need it to mean something to you, too."
Emotion surged in her chest, a wave so strong it threatened to pull her under."You make it really hard to pretend anything with you."
"Good," he said."Then we're on the same page."
She helped him tug his T-shirt over his head, the fabric catching briefly before pulling free.He tossed it somewhere toward the foot of the bed without looking.
The sight of him bare from the waist up hit her harder than she'd expected.Solid chest dusted with dark hair, the lines of muscle defined without being showy.And scars.They scattered across his shoulder and down his ribs, some pale and old, some newer and pink, a map of damage she hadn't known he carried.
She reached out, tracing one that curved along his collarbone with careful fingers.
"Fire?"she asked.
"A couple of them," he said."A couple from before that.Motorcycle accidents, back when I was young and dumb and thought protective gear was optional."His mouth quirked."I've been known to do stupid things at high speeds."
She traced another scar, this one on his ribs, longer and more deliberate-looking."What about this one?"
"Surgery," he said."Collapsed lung after a bad call.Beam came down.I didn't move fast enough."
"You almost died," she said, the realization settling cold in her stomach.
"Almost doesn't count."He caught her hand, pressed a kiss to her palm."I'm still here."
"I should be more worried about that," she said."About what you do.About the risks you take."
"You're allowed to be," he said."We can schedule your lecture for later.Right now I'd rather focus on something else."
Warmth rolled through her at the easy banter, at the way he could make her smile even now, even with the ghost of her nightmare still lingering in the corners of the room.It steadied her enough to reach for the hem of her own shirt.
For a heartbeat, she wanted to hesitate.To flinch.To cover herself and apologize for every way she wasn't perfect, every scar of her own, every part of her body that didn't match some imaginary ideal.Gavin's voice whispered in the back of her mind, a catalog of criticisms she'd absorbed over years of being told she wasn't enough.
She pulled the shirt over her head anyway.
