Cruz:
The silence after was thick. Not heavy, not suffocating. Just… full. Full of breath and warmth and skin still buzzing from the fire we’d started between us. Avery was curled against me, chest to chest, her lips parted slightly, damp hair stuck to her temple, heart still tapping a quiet rhythm into mine. I could still feel her trembling.
But it was different now. All of it. Because for the first time, I didn’t feel the need to get up. To dress. To slip out the door with some vague excuse or make a joke to cut the tension. For the first time—I stayed.
And I knew it was because I couldn’t leave.
I should’ve. God, I should’ve. That was the deal I made with myself from the beginning. Keep her at arm’s length. Don’t make it real. Don’t let it go too deep. Because deep meant dangerous.
