Page 27 of Bear and Book

It wasn’t a polite kiss. It was hungry, the kind that made the air feel thinner.

Leo pressed forward, and I let him, my hands curling in his shirt without conscious thought. His heart beat strong and fast under my palms, matching mine.

The world narrowed to the sound of our breathing, the faint creak of the floor under our shifting weight, the dizzy pull of heat that made my fox all but purr.

It would have been so easy to let it keep going, but easy was dangerous.

I broke away first, breathing hard.

“This is a bad idea,” I pointed out.

Leo’s eyes were dark, his smile tilted with something between frustration and hope.

“Could’ve fooled me,” Leo muttered.

I stepped back, putting the counter between us like it could stop whatever was happening in my chest. “You’re too young. Too…”

“Too what?” Leo asked, but I didn’t answer.

Because the truth was, it wasn’t about him being too anything. It was about me not being enough. Not safe enough, not steady enough to risk letting someone in again.

Yet, my lips still tingled, and my fox was still restless, pacing against my ribs like it had just seen its future walk out the door.

Chapter 8

Leo

By the time I left the bookshop, my mouth still tingled.

Not in a “hey, that was nice” kind of way. More in the “I just kissed someone I’ve been half-obsessed with and he pulled away like I’d burned him” kind of way.

The cool evening air didn’t help. I wanted to shake it off, but the memory clung to me.

His lips, the sound he made when I leaned closer, the way his fingers curled like he’d almost reached for me before snatching them back.

I told myself not to take it personally. Not everyone moves at my speed.

But my bear was pacing, unhappy with that excuse. My bear liked direct answers, not mixed signals wrapped in polite goodbyes.

I made it halfway down the block before stopping under the warm spill of a streetlamp, shoving my hands deep in my jacket pockets.

I should’ve gone straight home. Instead, I stood there like a guy who’d forgotten where he lived, watching Elias’s store from the corner of my eye.

A shadow moved inside. It was probably him, putting things away for the night, dusting off shelves, looking perfectly fine.

No sign that he’d just sucker-punched me with a kiss and a retreat in the same breath.

I walked faster after that, partly because I wanted to, partly because my chest hurt in a way that didn’t make sense. I’d known him for, what, a few days?

And yet the space between us already felt wrong. Shaking my head, I walked back to my apartment.

Cassian was sprawled on the couch when I got home, one leg hooked over the armrest, scrolling on his phone. There was a faint smell of something savoury in the air.

Maybe he stopped by his favorite takeaway before heading back.

“You’re home early,” he said without looking up.

I grunted something noncommittal and headed for the fridge. My plan was to grab a drink, disappear into my room, and stew in peace.