Inside his room he stops just past the door.
“Wren.”
I look up.
“I need you to know something,” he says carefully.
“You don’t owe me anything.”
The words hit harder than they should.
Because he means them.
He’s giving me an exit.
“I know,” I say.
I step closer.
“I’m here because I want to be.”
For a moment Boone just looks at me.
Like he’s memorizing something he thought he lost.
Then he reaches up and brushes his thumb gently across my cheek.
The touch is careful.
Relearning.
His mouth finds mine slowly.
Not urgent.
Not desperate.
Just… certain.
The kiss is soft at first.
But the moment our lips meet, years collapse between us.
Memories flood in.
Late nights.
Shared laughter.
The way his arms used to feel like the safest place in the world.
Boone exhales against my mouth like he’s been holding his breath for years.
“God,” he murmurs.
His hands slide around my waist, pulling me closer.
The kiss deepens.
