Her throat went tight. It wasn’t a kiss—an embrace, his arms wrapped around her, her face pressed against his shoulder. She could hear his heartbeat, steady and strong. Could feel the tension draining from his shoulders as he held her.
“What’s this for?” The words were muffled against his shirt.
“Because I wanted to.” His chin rested on top of her head. “Because I’ve wanted to do this for three weeks and kept finding reasons not to. Because you scared the hell out of me four days ago and I’m still not over it.”
She wrapped her arms around his waist and held on. Let herself sink into his solidity, the simple comfort of being held by someone who wanted to hold her.
“I’m okay.” She spoke softly. “I’m right here.”
“I know.” His arms tightened briefly. “I’m still going to hold onto you for a minute.”
They stood there on Main Street as dusk draped around them, as shopkeepers closed up and the last tourists drifted by.
When they finally separated, Theo kept hold of her hand. His fingers wove through hers as they walked toward his truck.
“We should confront Piprick tomorrow.” His voice was measured. “It’s late, and if things escalate, I want us both rested.”
“That’s surprisingly reasonable.”
“I have my moments.” He stopped at the vehicle, turning to face her. His hand found her hip, drawing her closer. “After this is done. After Piprick. We need to talk.”
“I know.”
“About us.” His knuckles brushed her jaw. “About what this is. What I want it to be.”
Her heart was pounding. “What do you want it to be?”
“Everything.” The word came out rough, honest, stripped of all his careful control. “I want everything, Avine. I know that’s a lot. I know we haven’t known each other long. But I’m done pretending I don’t feel what I feel.”
She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Could only look at him—this man who’d been so careful, so controlled, now standing before her with his heart in his hands.
“I’m terrified,” she admitted. “I’ve been hurt before. I’ve had someone make me small. I swore I’d never let that happen again.”
“I don’t want you small.” His voice was fierce. “I want you exactly as you are. Sharp edges and all.”
She rose on her toes and kissed him.
It was softer than the kiss in the library—tender, deliberate, full of promise rather than desperation. His fingers tangled in her hair, cradling her head. Hers curled into his shirt, holding on.
When they finally separated, her pulse was racing. His forehead rested against hers.
“Tomorrow,” he said.
“Tomorrow.”
He drove her home in charged silence, their hands linked on the center console. His fingers moved over her palm the entire drive—circles, spirals, shapes that might have been words. When they hit a red light, he lifted their joined hands to his mouth and pressed a kiss to her palm, never taking his eyes off the road.
Avine’s heart was doing things it had no business doing.
When he walked her to her door, he didn’t let go of her hand. Didn’t step back. Instead, he backed her gently against the doorframe, one hand braced beside her head, the other still holding hers.
“I should go.” He said it even as he leaned closer. “We have an early morning.”
“Probably.” She didn’t move away.
“I’m going to kiss you again.”
“Okay.”
