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After everything that has been tearing through my head tonight, seeing her like this feels almost cruel.

She looks peaceful. Beautiful. Completely unaware of the storm I’m carrying inside me.

And I’m standing there watching the woman I love move to a song, suddenly overwhelmed by the urge to close the distance between us.

My jaw tightens.

I swallow hard, but it does nothing to ease the restless energy crawling beneath my skin.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I push away from the railing and quietly make my way to her. Each step brings me closer, and with every one of them, the need to touch her grows stronger, until I’m close enough to feel the warmth from her skin.

I let my fingers brush gently over her shoulder, and she startles immediately, her eyes flying open as she turns toward me.

For one brief second, her entire body goes still.

Then I pull her into my arms.

The movement is almost instinctive, as though I’ve been fighting the urge to hold her all night and my body finally made the decision for me. One arm settles around her waist, drawing her close, while my other hand finds hers.

I begin swaying slowly with her pressed to me.

Her eyes widen as she looks up at me, searching every inch of my face—my expression, my gaze, whatever she might find there that explains why I’m holding her like this.

I can feel the warmth of her body against mine, the soft rhythm of her breathing, the faint brush of her hair near my jaw.

My heart is beating far too hard.

I don’t know if she can feel it.

I hope she can’t.

Neither of us says a word.

The music continues around us, soft and slow, and I keep moving with her as if this is the only thing capable of quieting the noise in my head. Her arms gradually settle around me, and the tension I’ve been carrying since the party loosens by the smallest fraction.

She fits into my arms too easily.

That thought hits harder than it should.

For a few minutes, there is nothing else. No questions. No guilt. No decision waiting for me. Just her in my arms, the warmth of her body, and the music filling the quiet house as we sway together.

The song ends.

Then begins again.

Neither of us moves away.

We just keep dancing, tangled in each other’s arms for what feels like forever, letting the same melody circle through the room again and again.

Eventually, when we finally retreat to the bedroom, I pull her into my chest and hold her tightly, burying my face in her hair as sleep slowly takes over.

For tonight, I allow myself to ignore the decision I know I’ll have to make soon.

Before she finds out.

THIRTY-TWO

Selene