I press my face into the pillow for a second, letting out a quiet breath.
I never knew a kiss could feel like that, good and exciting, yes, but more than that… consuming. Like it reached inside me and rewired a part of me I didn’t even know was there.
I get up, shower, and dress for my shift, but my mind keeps drifting back to him. To the way he looked at me, like I wasn’t temporary, like I wasn’t something that would disappear the moment things got hard.
When I stop in front of the mirror, my fingers hover over my lips.
Still a little swollen.
Heat creeps up my neck as my stomach flips at the memory.
Marvel is already waiting by the door, tail wagging, ready for breakfast, but when I reach for the handle, I hesitate.
What if he changed his mind?
What if last night was just… heat?
What if I tell him I’ve never… and he looks at me differently?
I close my eyes briefly and shake my head.
No.
I can’t run from something before it even begins.
I open the door and the smell hits me first.
Coffee. Something sweet.
Then I see him.
Dex stands at the stove, flipping pancakes, his back to me, hair still damp from the shower. His shoulders shift with easy strength, muscles moving under his skin with each motion, controlled and effortless in a way that pulls my attention before I can stop it.
I shouldn’t stare.
I do anyway.
There’s something about him like this, quiet, focused, completely unaware of me for just a second, that settles something in my chest.
He turns. His eyes find mine instantly.
And just like that, everything from last night crashes back into me so hard my breath catches.
“Hi,” I say softly.
That smirk forms slowly, like he knows exactly what he’s doing just by looking at me.
His gaze drifts over me, unhurried, taking his time in a way that makes my skin warm under it before returning to my eyes.
He turns the stove off without breaking eye contact.
Then he walks toward me like there’s no stopping him now.
My breath slows as he stops in front of me, close enough that I can feel the heat of him, his scent wrapping around me again, already familiar in a way that shouldn’t be possible after just one night.
“Hello, Tinker.”
His voice is low, rough in a way that settles deep in my chest.
