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“No.” I don’t hesitate. “Wanting isn’t selfish. It’s human.”

“It feels selfish to want all this. I love the quiet here. There’s a peace I’ve never known and I don’t want to give it up. I…I want Finn. And I want Boone. And I want you.”

She doesn’t look at me when she says it. Her voice is soft, nearly swallowed by the wind, but I hear every word.

She wants us.

All of us.

My heart kicks hard behind my ribs.

I wait for guilt to follow, for shame to creep in and tell me I shouldn’t want the same thing. But it never comes.

So, I act. I bridge the space between us and I reach for her.

My hand cups her face, thumb brushing the curve of her cheek. Her skin is warm beneath my palm, and softer than I even imagined. I tilt her head toward me, giving her every chance to pull away.

Her breath hitches, and I feel the ripple of it through my chest. Her lips part slightly and she watches me with those wide, uncertain eyes.

Not kissing her might be the hardest thing I’ve ever done.

I want her more than I’ve let myself want anything in a long time. I want to know the sound she makes when she comes apart in my hands. I want her pressed against me, whispering my name. I want to give her everything she’s never had.

But I need her to hear me first.

I keep my thumb at her cheekbone and hold her gaze as I speak. “You don’t have to apologize for wanting. And you sure as hell don’t have to be afraid of it.”

She swallows hard. “Even if I don’t know what happens next?”

“Especially then,” I say.

Her lashes lower for a second, and when they lift again, there’s something new in her expression. Something raw and hopeful.

She leans in slowly, her forehead resting against mine. My hand drifts to the back of her neck, holding her there.

“You shouldn’t be afraid to take what you want,” I whisper, saying this to her almost as much as I’m saying it to myself.

She breathes me in, eyes half-closed, and it’s her that moves first—but just barely. A brush of her mouth to mine, the faintest press that burns hotter than anything I’ve ever known. My fingers tighten against the nape of her neck. I tilt my head and kiss her back.

Her lips part with a quiet sigh. She tastes like tea and honey. So sweet and it takes everything in me to not drag her closer.

My free hand fists in her sweatshirt. She shifts toward me without thinking, every part of her softening as our mouths move together.

The kiss builds in pieces.

Her fingers curl in the fabric of my shirt as mine slide beneath her sweatshirt, brushing the bare skin of her lower back. She shivers.

She pulls back first, breath uneven, eyes wide and searching. “That was…”

“I know.”

My hand stays at her waist, just above the band of her pants. I search her eyes for my next move. I want more, desperately, but I need to know she’s right there with me.

I think I find it, so I reach for her hand, curling my fingers around hers, and tug gently. Her hesitation lasts only a second before she nods and lets me lead her back through the door.

The hallway is quiet. Finn’s room is dark. When we reach her door, I pause. One more chance for her to change her mind. Her fingers tighten around mine instead.

The blanket on the bed is folded back neatly. There’s a book on the nightstand, spine cracked in the middle. It smells like her in here. She stands in the center of it all, waiting.