I couldn’t form words. Couldn’t form thoughts. Just heat and the echo of his mouth and the steady drum of my pulse that felt way too loud in the small shed.
He was watching me, expression unreadable now, not cocky, not smirking — just watching, like he was waiting to see which way I’d break.
“I...” My voice cracked. I swallowed hard and tried again. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
“Probably not,” he agreed, so casually it sent another shiver through me.
But there was nothing casual about the way he still lingered close, his fingers brushing the edge of the workbench, his gaze dragging over my face like he was memorizing it.
I shook my head, trying to clear it, trying to remind myself of all the reasons this was wrong, impossible, careless. “This doesn’t mean anything.”
The words sounded hollow even to me.
His smile was faint, too faint, but it hit me like a challenge anyway. “If you say so, Sav.”
I couldn’t hold his stare, not when my whole body was betraying me, still buzzing with the taste of him.
I took a step away from him, my hands itching to do something — anything that wasn’t six foot plus of trouble standing too close.
He read me perfectly. Sensed my confusion.
“I’m going to go,” he said, scooping his backpack up, getting ready to head out.
“Okay.”
Dante sighed loudly. “Don’t overthink it, Sav. It was just a kiss.”
I felt like he’d slapped me, and from the look in his eye, he knew it.
He walked to the door without a goodbye.
I didn’t know whatthatwas, but I knew one thing: it was so much more thanjusta kiss.
* * *
I spent the afternoon in the shed.
I wasn’t hiding. No matter what he said, or what my subconscious muttered. This was aworkshop, and in here, I worked.
Most of the time.
Maybe not this afternoon.
The stained glass in front of me blurred, colors bleeding together until I realized it wasn’t the glass — it was me. My hand trembled on the soldering iron, my reflection warping in the copper foil like it knew I wasn’t steady enough to be here.
I should’ve been calm. This was supposed to be the one place where nothing touched me — no concerns, no pressures. Where the faint worry of wondering why he needed hydrocodone didn’t gnaw at the corner of my brain.
But every time I pressed down, steadied a piece into place, my mind slipped sideways to the press of his mouth on mine. Hisfingers trailing over my skin. My hand pressed against his thick cock, wishing there wasn’t the barrier of his clothing between us.
It was maddening. I wanted to shake it off like I would copper dust, but the memory clung, sticky, hot, impossible to ignore. I’d told myself it didn’t mean anything. I’d told him. But the lie sat heavy on my tongue, because the truth was, I couldn’t remember the last time anyone had made me feel that alive — and that terrified.
I dropped the tool with a clatter and stepped back, heart hammering.
If this was what one kiss did to me, I wasn’t sure I’d survive anything else. I'd already stopped looking at the workbench after what he said he wanted todoto me on it.
The clatter of my tool was still echoing when the shed door creaked. I froze, pulse jerking hard. For a second, stupidly, I thought it was him.
“Savannah?”
