Love in the Shadows

Chapter 3: A lover’s scent

Sera felt it before she fully registered it. The subtle shift in the way his fingers tightened at her waist, the way his other hand moved instinctively to steady her, not distant or careful, but certain, like it remembered her far too well.

The room had lost its edges, the soft glow of the lights blurring into something warm and indistinct, but Evan remained sharply, impossibly clear in front of her. His presence grounded her even as everything else slipped, and that was the most dangerous part of it.

“You shouldn’t be this close,” she whispered, though she made no move to pull away.

Evan’s gaze dropped briefly to her lips before lifting again, slower this time, as if the motion itself cost him effort.

“Then tell me to stop.”

She didn’t.

The silence that followed was an answer enough.

His hand shifted slightly, no longer just holding her upright but drawing her closer, until the space between them disappeared entirely. Sera could feel the steady rise and fall of his breath, the warmth of him through the thin fabric of her dress, and beneath it all, that familiar scent. Clean and sweet, unmistakably his.

His scent wrapped around her, making her forget why she had gone to his room in the first place.

Her fingers tightened weakly against his shirt, not to push him away but to anchor herself, as though letting go would mean losing the last thing that still felt real.

“You always did this,” he said quietly, his voice lower now, rougher at the edges.

Her brows knit slightly, her thoughts slow, unsteady.

“Did what…?”

“Holding on to me tightly, and then pretending you didn’t know what you were doing to me.”

The words landed somewhere deeper than they should have.

Sera let out a soft breath, her head tilting slightly as she looked at him, her eyes unfocused but searching, like she was trying to hold onto something that had already begun to slip.

“I never pretended,” she murmured. “I just… Couldn’t help myself.”

Something shifted in his expression then. Something that cracked through the control he had held so tightly since the moment he opened his door for Sera tonight.

His hand moved, almost without thought, brushing lightly along her arm before settling again at her waist, his thumb tracing a slow, absent line against the fabric as if he were testing the reality of her being there.

It was a small touch.

But Sera felt it like a bolt of warm electricity up her skin.

Her breath caught, her body leaning into him without permission, without restraint, drawn to him in a way that had never needed logic.

“You’re not thinking clearly,” he said, though his voice lacked the distance the words required.

“Neither are you.”

It came out softer than she intended, almost a confession.

Evan exhaled slowly, his forehead lowering until it rested lightly against hers, the contact brief at first, then lingering just a moment longer than it should have.

He closed his eyes.

Just for a second.

And in that second, everything felt dangerously close to breaking.

Sera’s grip on his shirt tightened, her head tilting just enough that her cheek brushed against him, her senses overwhelmed not just by the drug but by him. By the familiarity of his touch, his scent, and the way being this close felt like stepping back into something she had never truly left behind.

“I missed you,” she said, the words slipping out before she could stop them.

Evan stilled. Completely.

For a moment, she thought he might pull away.

He didn’t.

Instead, his hand slid slightly higher along her back, holding her more securely as her weight shifted further into him, as though he had already decided he wasn’t going to let her have a chance to move away.

“Sera…” he said again, but this time it sounded like a warning. Or maybe a reminder. He wasn’t sure which.

Her lashes fluttered, her gaze dropping, her body growing heavier in his arms as the last of her resistance faded.

The world had softened completely now, everything distant except the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her ear.

She let herself lean into him, feeling everything at once.

Just for a moment. Just once.

Then her grip loosened and her body went slack against him as she lost her consciousness.

Evan’s jaw tightened as he adjusted his hold, one arm sliding beneath her knees as he lifted her fully into his arms, her head falling gently against his shoulder.

She barely stirred.

For a second, he just stood there.

Looking down at her.

At the way her expression had softened in sleep, at the tension that had left her features, at the quiet vulnerability she never allowed anyone to see.

Something in his chest tightened.

This was exactly what he had spent two years avoiding.

And somehow, it had taken less than an hour to undo it.

He exhaled slowly, forcing himself to move.

The corridor outside was silent as he stepped out, carrying her across the short distance to her suite.

Inside, the room was dim, untouched.

Evan crossed to the bed and lowered her down carefully, his movements slower now, more deliberate than necessary, as though he were prolonging something he knew he shouldn’t.

Sera shifted slightly as he pulled the covers over her, her hand brushing faintly against his wrist before falling still again.

He paused for a second.

Then, almost without thinking, his fingers turned, brushing lightly against hers in return.

It lingered longer than it should have.

His gaze dropped to her face, taking in the quiet rise and fall of her breathing, the softness that only appeared when she wasn’t trying to hold herself together.

“You always make this harder than it needs to be,” he said quietly, though there was no frustration in it.

Evan straightened after a moment, stepping back as though distance alone could restore the control he had lost.

It didn’t.

But it was enough for now.

Without another word, he turned and left the room, the door closing softly behind him.

And even as he walked away, one thought remained, persistent and unwelcomed.

He should have let her fall to the ground instead of holding on and gazing at her with a hunger that hadn’t faded despite the years spent apart.

Now that he hadn’t, there was a fire raging in his chest, demanding for more than the slight skin contact he had with her.

And that, was going to be a problem.