My breath hitched.
“I’m asking,” I said.
That was the moment the air changed.
He didn’t kiss me right away. Didn’t rush to prove anything. He lifted a hand and brushed his knuckles along my jaw, slow and testing, like he was checking for fractures.
I leaned into it before I could stop myself.
His mouth met mine without hunger at first. Just pressure. Control. The kind of kiss that asked instead of took.
I answered him anyway.
The sound that left my throat surprised me. It wasn’t desperate. It wasn’t needy.
It was relief.
He pulled back slightly, forehead resting against mine.
“This is where it gets complicated,” he murmured.
“I know.”
“And you’re still here.”
“Yes.”
His thumb traced the line of my lower lip. “Then we stop pretending.”
The kiss deepened. Heat built. The room
