I stare at him, shaking because I’m cornered—and still, hopelessly drawn to him. Then his hand brushes a piece of hair from my cheek. I flinch—but don’t pull away.
“You don’t have to believe in forever right now,” he said. “Just believe I’m not running.”
He has a point, and I assume he has a plan. My resolve to end this is slipping because he has that effect on me. And then he kisses me.
It’s urgent. Not demanding. Just...present. His warm lips on mine, and it feels so good, and soright. It’s almost as if he’s still choosing me, even after everything I’d said.
And worse—I kiss him back because heat surges up my spine like a fuse has been lit. My knees damn near buckle under me. I grab a fistful of his shirt—no,gropedfor it—because I needed something to hold me upright. He’s real. And my world spins.
His lips are warm and confident as they cover mine. He applies just the right amount of pressure to make me feel like he knows what he’s doing. And I hate myself for melting into him so effortlessly.
How am I supposed to keep him at arm’s length when he chased me across the country? I’ve already lost all thoughts in my head, including the million reasons why this won’t work.
He continues to kiss me, his tongue is in my mouth, like he owns it— like the ceremony hadn’t been a drunken blur but a promise he intended to keep. And even though I don’t remember that night, his lips are familiar and magical.
I kiss him back harder than I should, my hands twisting in the fabric at his chest, trying to drag him closer—maybe into me, maybe into the version of where I let myself believe in us.
This isn’t just an attraction. This is real, and he’s dangerous. And as long as he’s in my life, I don’t know how to control the situation. If I’m not careful, I’ll get lost in him.
This is me falling over a cliff—and wanting it anyway.
His hands slide to my waist, his strong fingers pressing into me like he is memorizing the shape of me. I’m still clinging to his shirt like it is the only thing keeping me upright, and maybe it is—because the way he kissed me was slow and deliberate, sending heat pooling between my thighs.
Then he pulls me closer. His hips met mine, and I felt his stiff cock pressing into me, and my whole body sparked.
God, I want him.
And not just the kind of want that was about skin and friction—though that was there, strong and electric—but the kind that scares the hell out of me. The kind that saidstay—that whisper ofWhat if you give him a chance?
My hands slide up, bunching the fabric over his shoulders, and dragging him down to me like I could make the kiss deeper, hotter, and more impossible to ignore. He groans against my lips, and that excites me even more.
I should have pulled away. I should have shut it down. But do I?
No!
I’m like a bitch in heat. I tilt my head, open my lips for him, and let him taste every part of me I swore I’d never give away again. And when his hands slip under my shirt, his warm palms meet my bare skin, I gasp. My hips arch into his hard cock without thinking.
“Jesus, Kate,” he murmurs against my mouth, his voice is low, and I can tell he’s wrecked. “You drive meinsane.”
I don’t answer. I can’t. Because I am already aching, as I press into him, as if maybe if I give himeverything, I could stop being scared of him leaving me.
But in the back of my mind, buried under the heat and the hunger, the voice I’ve come to trust is still there— the devil on my shoulder saying:He doesn’t know how messy you are yet.
And when he does—what then?
13
FINN
MARRY ME…KINDA
The Big Hit—Adefenseman lines up a forward cutting across the ice and fully commits to a crushing, legal body check: Eyes locked. Skates driving.
Kate pulls away and drops into the chair across from me like gravity’s pulling harder on her tonight. Her lipstick’s faded, eyeliner is smudged, and her hair is wild from the fan blowing on the set. She looks like something untouchable—chaos caught in a storm, but the storm of her choosing.
She doesn’t look at me when she says, “I need to tell you something.”
I nod, even though she doesn’t need my permission.
