His expression shifts.
Softens.
“But you are my fated mate, Hadley,” he says, low and certain. “I messed up before, I know that?—”
“I know,” I cut in gently. “And we’ll talk about it. We will.”
I step a little closer to him, my voice dropping.
“But right now?” I whisper, my gaze flicking to his mouth and back. “I’d really rather kiss you.”
There’s a beat.
And then I see it.
His eyes flare—bright, intense, heat sparking between us so fast it makes my breath hitch.
The air changes.
Thickens.
“Yeah?” he murmurs.
I nod.
“Yeah.”
His hand tightens around mine, and for a second I think he’s going to pull me in right there—but instead, he leans back just enough to study me.
“Wanna see my house?” he asks.
I blink.
“You have a house?”
He huffs a soft laugh, like I just asked if he owns shoes.
“Yeah, Cookie. I’ve got a house.”
Something about the way he says it—confident.
Steady.
Safe.
With a hint of vulnerability.
It makes something warm bloom in my chest.
I smile.
“Sure,” I say. “I’d love to see it.”
His grin is slow. Satisfied.
Like he just won something.
He doesn’t let go of my hand as he leads me to his truck, opening the door for me before walking around to the driver’s side.
