Harper
I pulled him in.
His mouth found mine and the world went quiet.
Not a collision this time. Slow. His lips moved against mine like he was memorizing the shape of my mouth, like he had nowhere else to be. My good hand was still fisted in his shirt. His heartbeat came through the fabric, so much faster than the stillness on his face would suggest. One hand settled beneath my shoulder blade, fingers spread wide, avoiding the sling with a precision that made my chest ache.
He pulled back first. Forehead against mine. Both of us breathing like we'd run the same distance to get here.
"What is this?"
His voice was rough. Low. The kind of low that vibrated against my lips from an inch away.
One beat of quiet.
"I don't know."
Not a deflection. Not a joke. Three honest words. The most
