Page 40

"I do mean it." His demeanor shifted as he leaned towards me. "When first I saw you, I wished as hard as I could that everything would become right again."

The wind tickled my neck. I imagined it was him, lightly brushing my hair away. He was sweeping me up with his velvet voice. I wondered if he sang, like his father had. Sherman had called himtalentless,but I didn’t believe that. Not when he was capable of tugging at my heart with his presence alone.

We were close. Too close. My eyes darted to his mouth—that normally cocky smile—then back to his jungle-green eyes. "I haven't made anything right."

"You have."

"Name one."

"Amina... just by you being here, things feel more right than they have in a long while."

My ears were rippling with the silent roar of white noise. I moved my tongue so that I could try and argue. That was what I was used to—arguing with Bach Devine.

That was easy.

Much easier than falling for him.

No hint of my voice graced the evening air. Just my lips on his, my tongue shaping not for vowels, but for pleasure. The kind of kiss that turned my stomach into bird feathers. And a kiss I'd promised myself would never happen.

Bach was assertive in all aspects of his life.

But it was I who'd made the first move.