He deepens the kiss slowly. Neither of us touches the other at first, just our lips connected, moving together, unhurried, exploring. There is no pressure, no expectation. Just warmth and want.
I lift my hand to cup his jaw, and the slight tremble I feel in his skin hits me harder than the kiss. He’s choosing this. Choosing me.
His hand mirrors mine, resting against my jaw like he’s reminding himself I’m real. That this is real. That he is here, and that he wants this.
His trust means more than anything. For once, Eli isn’t running. He isn’t apologizing. He is choosing.
The world fades: the office, the files, the weeks spent pretending this pull didn’t exist. There is only him. His scent, his warmth, the way he fits against me like he was always meant to be here.
I place my hand over his chest, feeling his heartbeat. The rhythm grounds me. For a second, I forget every reason I told myself to be careful.
Then, reality catches up.
Slow down.
I force myself to breathe, slowing the kiss until we’re barely touching, close enough that I feel every breath against my lips. Our foreheads rest together. Neither of us moves.
“Tell me you’re okay,” I whisper, my voice shaking. I need the answer more than I should.
Eli looks at me, and I get lost in his golden eyes. A small smile touches his lips.
“I think…” he whispers against my mouth, “I’m more than okay.”
Relief hits me so hard I almost sway.
He presses one last soft kiss to my lips, never breaking eye contact. And there it is: happiness. I see it in his eyes, and it means everything.
“Let’s go home,” I say with a smile.
Eli’s eyes soften, and he gives me a small nod.
I don’t mean the apartment. I mean us.
The truth settles deep, heavy, and certain. I’m not running from it anymore.
14
Eli
We get home and eat dinner with a movie playing in the background. Cheap is singing along with the movie sing-along, and he is failing miserably.
Warmth settles low in my chest. Nights like this feel unreal, like I’ve stepped into a life I wasn’t meant to have.
CJ and I talk about the day, easy and unhurried, until he brings up Mason Sterling’s case. He still hasn’t handed it over. The file sits on his desk, his picture paper-clipped to the top. When I look at it, something tugs at me. A faint pressure builds behind my eyes. The familiarity feels wrong, like a memory trying to surface through fog. There’s something about his eyes that makes me feel like I’ve seen him before. I just can’t place where.
I’m still feeling the lingering echo of our kiss earlier at the office. Heat crawls up my neck, and my chest tightens at thememory, sharp and sweet. I can still feel his skin beneath my hands, and I want it again.
I shift closer, leaning into him. CJ’s arm comes around my shoulders immediately, pulling me in without hesitation. My breath steadies. His touch grounds me in a way nothing else does. I turn into him, and we watch the movie together.
My fingers start moving without thinking, tracing lightly over his stomach, learning the shape of him in slow, absent patterns. His scent surrounds me. A quiet thrill runs through me, and the feel of him under my hand makes my pulse jump.
I feel him react under my touch. A small tightening in his body. His stomach twitches, and he shifts slightly toward me.
I look up at him. “CJ?” My eyes ask the question before my voice does.
He looks down at me under half-lowered lids, his gaze dropping to my mouth. My stomach flips. The air between us thickens, charged and fragile. I wet my lips without thinking, just a small flick of movement.
That’s all it takes. He leans closer.
