Peyton, however, went completely still. The color drained from her face as the reality of it settled in—not flirting, not tension, not history being hinted at—but something real, something physical, something she couldn’t twist or compete with in words anymore.
Harmony was the one who pulled back first.
Not far. Just enough.
Her hand still curled in Axel’s shirt, her breath slightly uneven, her lips parted as she held his gaze. That same dangerous, satisfied edge lingered in her expression—but there was something else there now, something quieter, more vulnerable, buried just beneath the surface.
Axel didn’t step away.
If anything, he leaned in just slightly, his forehead almost brushing hers, his hand still firm at her waist as his eyes searched hers like he was trying to figure out
