“Sorry,” he mutters. “Is… hard to control when you—” He breaks off, running a hand through his already-disheveled hair. “Theway you look at me. The sounds you make.” Another rough breath. “Is very hard.”
“Don’t apologize. I like that I… that you…” I can’t finish the sentence.
His eyes go dark again. “Careful, little scholar. We are trying to slow down, yes?”
“Right. Yes. Slowing down.” I reluctantly step back, immediately missing his warmth. “I should… I should let you finish with Apollo. And I need to… process. What just happened.”
“Process,” he repeats, and a small smile tugs at his mouth. “This is very you. To need to think about kiss.”
“That wasn’t just a kiss,” I say, and my voice comes out shakier than I intended. “That was…”
“Dangerous?” he offers.
“Yes.” A breathless laugh escapes me. “Dangerous. Terrifying. Perfect.”
“All three,” he agrees. His hand finds mine, threading our fingers together. “We have time now, yes? To… process. To see what this is.”
“We have time,” I confirm, though part of me wants to argue that we’ve already waited longer than I thought was humanly possible, and I don’t want to wait another minute. But thesteadier part of me, the part that can still think, knows he’s right. This is big. This matters. We should go slow.
Well, slower than against a stable wall, anyway.
“Tomorrow?” he asks. “Same time in conference room? To read?”
“Yes,” I say. “And for whatever else comes with being… this. Us. Whatever we are now.”
“Partners,” he says firmly. “Equals who cannot keep hands off each other.”
I laugh, and it comes out giddy and slightly unhinged. “That’s one way to describe it.”
He tugs me close for one more kiss—briefer this time but no less intense. When we break apart, we’re both smiling like idiots.
“Go,” he says gently, releasing my hand. “Before I forget why stopping was good idea.”
I force myself to step back, to turn toward the stable doors. “Flavius?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you. For making this right. For waiting. For being worth doing this the right way.”
His smile could light up the entire sanctuary. “Always, little scholar. Always.”
I make it three steps before I turn back. “Also? You’re an incredible kisser.”
His laugh follows me out of the stable—surprised and delighted and warm.
I make it halfway across the courtyard before I realize I’m smiling so wide my face hurts. Swollen lips. Probably messy hair. The imprint of his hands on my waist, in my hair… everywhere he touched me.
My face heats as I still feel the ghost of his thigh between mine. The heat of his body. The way he felt under my fingertips.
I force my brain to stop there before I combust in the middle of the courtyard.
I kissed Flavius.
Flavius kissed me back.
Flavius kissed me like I was air and he’d been drowning.
And this time, there’s nothing standing in our way.
