THE room was quiet except for the sound of their breathing and the distant chorus of crickets outside. Dark's forehead was still pressed against hers, his hand cradling her face like she was something precious and breakable.
"Ally," he whispered, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw. "Are you sure? We don't have to—"
She placed her fingers over his lips. "I'm sure. I've been sure since you walked through my door six days ago looking nervous with pizza boxes. Maybe longer. Maybe since Punta Azul when I saw you alive and wanted to kill you and kiss you in equal measure."
He turned his head to kiss her palm. "That's very violent and romantic simultaneously."
"That's us. We've never been simple."
"No," he agreed, his voice dropping lower, rougher. "We haven't."
She pulled back slightly
