This was dangerous territory.
Not just physically, but emotionally as well.
She thought of him standing in the main room, broad shoulders tense beneath his shirt, jaw set like he was bracingfor impact even now. She could picture him sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped loosely, pretending he wasn’t listening for every sound she made.
Guarding her.
He would always guard her.
The realization softened something inside her. She had never stopped loving him. She had simply learned how to survive without him.
She took one last steadying breath and reached for the door handle. Her body felt warm. Awake. Too aware.
She shut off the light, and when she stepped back into the room, her eyes found him instantly, sitting on the bed closest to the window, elbows resting on his knees, hands loosely clasped, exactly as she’d imagined.
Her heart stuttered.
He looked up when she emerged, his gaze sweeping over her with a quiet intensity, as if committing her to memory.
“You okay?” he asked.
She nodded, quick, short. “I think so.”
He eased himself off the bed, crossing the space between them with unhurried steps. He stopped just short of touching her, giving her room to pull away if she wanted.
She didn’t.
“I hate that this is happening to you,” he said.
Her voice came out softly. “You didn’t do this.”
“I still hate it. And I set it in motion, to be honest, by asking Blaze to do that search.”
They stood there for a second longer, the air thick between them, and then he leaned in and kissed her.
It wasn’t rushed.
It wasn’t desperate.
It was careful. Familiar. His hand came up to cradle her jaw, thumb caressing along her cheekbone as if confirming she wasreal. Her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, grounding herself in the solid warmth of him.
She kissed him back slowly, letting herself remember how it felt to fit against him, how his presence had always made the world quieter.
When they broke apart, she didn’t step away. Instead, she turned and sat on the edge of his bed.
He watched her, brows knitting slightly. “Del?—”
She reached for him before he could finish, tugging gently at his hand until he came to her. She tilted her face up, pulling him down to her, and kissed him again, this time deeper, her mouth moving against his with intent.
And this time, she didn’t stop with the kiss. She slid her hands up his arms and around to his back as she leaned into him. His breath caught, and she felt it against her lips.
“Bobby,” she whispered, more a plea than his name.
He pulled back just enough to look at her. “Tell me to stop if that’s what you want.”
She simply shook her head, afraid to speak.
His hands came to rest at her waist, steady and warm, anchoring her as she leaned forward, resting her forehead briefly against his abdomen.
