Page 169 of Safe Word

Cain didn’t respond. He only stared at me, his gaze searching, unblinking as though etching me into his memory. My heart beat faster, my knees nearly giving out.

And then, slowly, his hand extended, palm up – a gesture that felt like both an offering and a plea. His chin tilted slight, his posture hesitant, as if bracing for rejection.

But how could I possibly deny him?

Every fibre of my being leaned towards him, irresistibly drawn by the gravitational pull of his presence. Each step I took towards him crunched against the loose pebbles on the old asphalt parking lot. When I placed my hand in his, I didn’t just touch him – I claimed him, together with his pain.

I stopped a single step away, but even that felt too far. The heat of him, paired with his sheer size, was a warning in itself – a delicious one, as if inviting me to cross a line I could never uncross.

‘Thank you,’ he rumbled, his voice hoarse and thick. ‘For being here for me. I didn’t know I needed that.’

I tried to smile, though the frantic pounding of my heart was deafening. ‘Of course,’ I said, my voice trembling with an attempt at lightness.

For a moment, I thought he would release me. That the tenuous bond would shatter.

And I made the decision to be the one breaking it.

But just as I began to withdraw, his fingers tightened around mine, and he pulled, closing the space between us, erasing the distance like it had never existed.

I stumbled forward, my chest colliding with his, and his arms enveloped me in one swift motion. The embrace was firm. As if he feared I might vanish if he let go.

His chin dipped, and he leaned into me, his forehead brushing my temple as he inhaled my scent, his breath warm against my skin.

My hands instinctively rose to his back, rubbing slow, soothing circles against the hard planes of muscle beneath his shirt. I told myself it was just a friendly gesture, a comfort shared between two battered souls. The weekend had run us both ragged.

But the way he held me told a different story. The way his fingertips played with the loose strands of hair on my neck, the way his skin scorched mine…

This was not a casual embrace.

When he pulled back, just enough to look at me, his eyes were glazed with something raw and dark. His lips hovered so close that the air between us turned electric. Then, after a breath it cracked with desperation when his hand rose, cupping the back of my head—

And he pulled me into him.

A kiss. Deep and hungry.

No.

Not a kiss – a meeting of souls. Hurried, but full of meaning, and heavy with everything we’d endured. Our hearts, hungry for it, syphoned its charge, needing more. Reality collapsed into the feel of his lips against mine, warm and searching, and the steady, grounding sensation of his hands on my back. In that moment, everything else fell away – my past, his past, all the pain and fear. It was just us, two broken pieces fitting together, finding solace in each other.

When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against mine, our breaths mingling in the space between us.

‘We can’t be doing this,’ he said roughly, as though the words themselves bled. ‘Things I need…’

‘No,’ I breathed, the sound barely audible, my voice trembling under the weight of everything unsaid. I hardly recognised it.

‘We work together.’ It rang hollow even as he said it.

‘We’re…’ I started, but the words got lost somewhere between my chest and my throat. The reasons we shouldn’t – gone. I hesitated, and in that hesitation, his gaze dropped to mine.

The words burned on the tip of my tongue, but reason rebelled. ‘It’s… complicated,’ I said finally, my voice faltering. ‘We’re both in a bad state.’

His forehead moved against mine in a faint nod, affirming the truth we both knew but didn’t want to accept. As if the contact might make it sink in faster.

‘We need time,’ I added, but it tasted bitterly. ‘For everything to settle.’

He inclined his head – just once. We both knew it was the right call, the sensible thing to do.

But still, neither of us moved.