"Come in," I call, turning from the window.
He enters cautiously, as if unsure of his welcome. He's fully dressed, hair damp from a shower, carrying a mug of coffee that he offers like a peace offering.
"Thought you might want this," he says.
I accept the mug, our fingers brushing in a way that feels more intimate after what we shared last night. "Thanks. You've been up a while."
"Perimeter check." He remains standing just inside the doorway, maintaining a distance that wasn't there when he was buried inside me, whispering things against my skin that made me believe in forever. "Cade took the night watch. My turn this morning."
"Everything secure?"
"For now."
The professional answer stings more than it should, especially after the raw intimacy we shared just hours ago. I take a sip of coffee to hide my expression, but he sees it anyway. Finn doesn't miss much.
"Nova." Just my name, but it contains questions I'm not sure I'm ready to answer.
"You regret it," I say, deciding directness is better than uncertainty. "Last night."
"No." His response is immediate, his eyes meeting mine with an intensity that steals my breath. "I don't regret a single moment of last night."
"Then why are you looking at me like we're back to client and protector? Like what happened between us was just physical release, and now we go back to professional boundaries?"
He runs a hand through his hair, a gesture I've come to recognize as a sign of internal conflict. "It's not that simple."
"It can be, if we let it."
"No, it can't." He takes a step closer, then stops himself, as if afraid of what might happen if he comes within touching distance. "Last night was... incredible. But it doesn't change the reality of our situation."
"Which is?"
"You're still in danger. I'm still responsible for your safety. And being emotionally involved only complicates that."
"We're already emotionally involved, Finn." I set down the coffee mug, tired of pretending this is a casual conversation. "That ship sailed somewhere between you kissing me by the fireplace and you telling me I was yours while you made me come for the third time."
Color rises in his cheeks at my bluntness, but he doesn't deny it. "I know."
"So what are you really afraid of?"
"Losing focus. Missing something important because I'm distracted by how much I want you. By how much last night meant to me."
Last night meant something to him. Not just sex, not just physical release after days of tension. Something real.
"It meant something to me too," I say softly.
"I know." He crosses the remaining distance between us, close enough now that I can smell the soap on his skin and the coffee on his breath. "That's what scares me."
"Why?"
"Because when this is over, when they catch your stalker and the danger has passed, you're going back to your world. Backto sold out arenas and red carpets and a life that has no place for a man who lives alone on a mountain because he doesn't fit anywhere else."
There’s brutal honesty in his words. He's not pulling away because he doesn't feel enough. He's pulling away because he feels too much, and he's already preparing for the moment he believes I'll leave.
"You don't know that," I say, reaching for his hand. "You don't know what I want or where I'll go when this is over."
"Don't I?" His fingers lace with mine, but his expression remains guarded. "You're Nova Wilde. Your life is in Los Angeles, in the spotlight. Mine is here, in solitude. Those two realities don't overlap."
"They could, if we wanted them to."
