-POV Derby
The words hung between us like a live wire.
“Finish what you were about to say.”
Jordan’s voice was low, rough, and completely unyielding. His hand stayed in my hair, fingers tight enough to keep me there but not enough to hurt. His other palm pressed flat against my waist, holding me against the counter like he refused to let even an inch of space grow between us. His eyes — dark, focused, burning — didn’t leave mine for a second.
I was trembling.
Not from fear. Not entirely.
From the weight of what I almost said. From the terrifying truth that had been clawing its way up my throat since the moment he walked into this pantry and refused to let me hide.
“I…” My voice cracked. I swallowed, trying again. “I was going to say that I’m not just falling anymore.”
Jordan’s brea
