That same tension—liquid, electric, hungry—rose between them again.
He leaned in. Stopped mere millimeters from her mouth.
“May I?”he whispered. His breath brushed across her skin.
He waited. Patient. Unhurried. Not demanding—just asking.
She didn’t answer with words.
She closed the last inch herself, brushing her lips against his—slowly, gently, but with the same longing she’d seen in his eyes moments earlier.
The kiss ignited instantly, like a spark catching on dry grass.
He pulled her closer, slid his hand to the back of her neck, the other wrapping around her waist. He held her tightly as if he were afraid to lose her.
And she… she didn’t want him to let go.
She stopped caring that they were in a restaurant. That people might see. None of it mattered.
For the first time in years, everything felt right.
Exactly as it should.
“Now this,”Jasper murmured against her lips, barely pulling away,“actually feels like a date.”
CHAPTER 59
Nina stood on the rooftop of the clinic, letting the cool night breeze brush against her face. A full, round moon hung over the city so bright and unreal it felt like she could reach out and touch it.
She was waiting for Jasper. He was in surgery again. And again—late into the night. She had already lost count of how many times they’d met like this: she came up to the roof while he was still scrubbed in. But for some reason, she felt calm here.
Maybe because she knew he’d be up the moment he was free.
The door clicked open. She smiled. She could tell it was him by the sound of his steps alone.
“I’m done for the night,” Jasper said quietly as he walked toward her.
She turned to him.
“It’s ten p.m. Took you long enough.”
He looked exhausted, still in his clinic scrubs.
She reached for the second cup sitting on the ledge.
“I brought you one too. The coffee here is awful, but… we don’t exactly have options.”
Jasper took the cup, his fingers brushing hers for the briefest second.
“Thanks,” he said, voice low and rough.“You’re too good to me.”
For a moment, they simply stood there, looking at each other. Neither moved.
Then he stepped closer. Slowly. Almost uncertainly. His eyes looked darker in the moonlight, and when he spoke again, his voice softened.
“You know… every time I open that door, I’m half afraid you won’t be here.”
She smiled again. Their strange little rooftop evenings had become a habit—almost a ritual. For a month now, they had been meeting here nearly every night. Sometimes they brought takeout, sometimes just tea or coffee. Jasper’s schedule was brutal, and next week he would be gone for a three-day conference.
