One second, I’m watching Jesse tighten a bolt on the porch railing, sunlight catching in his hair, the competence of him…
And the next, I’m not here anymore.
I’m pressed against the cabin hallway wall.
Hard.
Jesse’s mouth is on mine, hot and sure and relentless, like he’s done pretending he doesn’t want this. He’s done pretending he doesn’t want me.
His hand is braced beside my head, the other at my waist, fingers digging in just enough to say “don’t run.”
I remember the way my breath stuttered when he kissed me deeper.
The way my knees actually went weak.
The way his voice dropped when he said my name. I think it hurt him to hold back.
My stomach flips violently, and heat pools low, sudden and sharp. My thighs tense. My pulse skids.
I grip my coffee mug too hard and slosh liquid dangerously close to the rim.
Nope. No. Absolutely not.
I drag in a breath and try to anchor myself in the present: porch boards, morning air, children arguing about rock court outcomes.
But my memory is a traitor.
I remember the weight of him, close enough that I could feel every line of his body. Remember how my skin felt too tight, too sensitive, every nerve was already braced for more.
My body had decided for me that this was happening.
I shift, suddenly hyperaware of how Jesse’s voice sounds when he’s relaxed. Of how easily I could imagine it dropping again. Of how his hands look now, capable, the same hands that…
Stop. Stop thinking.
I squeeze my eyes shut for half a second.
When I open them, Jesse is looking at me.
“Everything okay?” he asks casually.
My mouth opens. My brain forgets how to supply words.
“Yes,” I say too fast. “Fine. Great. Just thinking.”
He smirks. “Dangerous hobby.”
You have no idea.
I laugh, a little breathless, and take another sip of coffee I absolutely do not need. My body is already humming, every inch of me tuned too tightly. A wire pulled to its limit.
The worst part?
It’s not just the memory of his mouth.
It’s the memory of how much I wanted it.
How easy it would’ve been to let go. How badly I wanted to stop thinking and just feel. How close I came to crossing a line I never cross, how my body had already sprinted past that line and waved back at my morals.
