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“Liar,” I whisper.
That’s it.
That’s the line.
That’s the moment.
And then—
He moves.
Jase
I’m done pretending.
Done holding the line.
Done acting like this isn’t exactly where we’ve been headed since the second I saw her again.
She calls me a liar.
Yeah.
She’s not wrong.
I close the distance.
What little there is.
My hand comes up—fingers brushing her jaw, steady, certain.
She doesn’t pull away.
Doesn’t stop me.
Just watches me.
Breath uneven.
Eyes dark.
Waiting.
That’s all it takes.
I kiss her.
Not soft.
Not careful.
Not controlled.
Everything I’ve been holding back since Prague—
Since the dock—
Since that moment in the dark when we almost—
