The sound of waves crashing nearby filled the silence between them.
Blaze walked beside her, close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating from him without touching her. He never crowded her space or pushed too hard. Blaze simply remained present in a way that felt deliberate now.
Steady.
That steadiness unsettled her more than uncertainty ever had.
When they reached the overlook, Johanna stopped walking. The view stretched endlessly below them. Dark water rolled beneath silver moonlight while soft music drifted faintly from the restaurant patio behind them.
The entire scene felt beautiful and entirely too intimate for her emotional well-being.
Johanna wrapped her arms loosely around herself. “This was a mistake.”
Blaze stopped beside her immediately.
“No,” he said quietly. “It isn’t.”
A soft laugh escaped her, fragile around the edges.
“You saying that doesn’t magically make this easier.”
“I know.”
The honesty in his voice landed harder than reassurance would have.
Johanna stared out toward the water.
“I spent years trying to get over you.”
Beside her, Blaze went completely still.
“And?”
The question came low and careful.
Johanna closed her eyes briefly before looking at him again.
Big mistake.
Blaze was watching her with the same intense focus that used to undo her at seventeen, then again at twenty-two, and somehow still did at thirty-two.
Time had never changed the way he looked at her.
Like she mattered.
Her chest tightened painfully.
“And sitting here right now…” she admitted softly, “feels entirely too easy.”
Relief shifted visibly across Blaze’s face after that.
Real enough to affect her.
He stepped closer, slow enough to give her every opportunity to pull away.
Johanna didn’t move.
The cold wind curled around them while moonlight caught the warm brown in his eyes.
