Something shifts in his expression, something like awe.
“Yeah?” His voice is rough.
“Yeah.” I almost smile. “He’s gone.”
He pulls me against his chest, arms wrapping around me tight. I melt into him, the adrenaline finally crashing. I’m shaking, and I can’t stop.
“I’m proud of you,tesoro,“ he murmurs into my hair.
We stand there for a long moment. His heart pounds against my ear. His hands are warm and steady on my back. Safe. I feel safe. I pull back just enough to look up at him.
We’re so close.
He tucks some loose hair behind my ear, and his eyes drop to my mouth. One of his hands cups my face, thumb brushing across my cheek. His other hand is still at my back, holding me steady.
“Mateo—“ My voice is barely a whisper.
He leans in. Just barely. He’s close enough that I can see the gold flecks in his dark eyes. Close enough that if I moved an inch, less, we’d be—
“Sadie, are you still there?”
Right. Jess. She’s on the phone.
I pick it up.
“Jess?” I say into it. “Are you still there?”
“Of course, I’m still here.” She pauses. Her voice softens. “Are you really okay?”
“Yeah. I’m okay.”
“Do you want me to come down there?”
“No. I’m okay. Really.”I look at Mateo, still standing in my apartment, hands shoved in his pockets now, giving me space but clearly not planning to leave. “I’ve got people here.”
“Okay. And Sadie? I love you.”
“Love you too.”
I hang up. Mateo and I look at each other across the small space. The almost-kiss hangs between us, unacknowledged but impossible to ignore.
“I’m staying tonight,” he says finally.
I should argue, tell him I’m fine, that Owen’s gone, and that I don’t need a bodyguard. But I’m tired of pretending I don’t need help. And even more tired of pretending I don’t want him here.
“Okay,” I whisper, sinking onto the couch and wrapping my arms around myself. “I’m glad you’re here, Mateo.”
Something flickers across his face. Like hearing his name after “I’m glad you’re here” means more than I fully realize.
The apartment is quiet. Safe. For a few minutes, I almost believe the worst is over.
Owen’s words echo in my head.You’re making a fool of yourself with this book.You need someone to pull you back from the edge.
Except I don’t feel like I’m on the edge. Not anymore.
I feel like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.
Mateo settles on the other end of the couch, and I curl into his side without thinking about it. His arm comes around my shoulders like it belongs there.
