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“I’ve seen worse,” he replied, stepping forward. “But I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you like this.”
I laughed, but it cracked on the way out. “You mean broken?”
“I mean real.”
He stood in front of me now, close enough to feel the heat radiating off his chest. His hand hovered like he wanted to touch me but wasn’t sure if I’d shatter.
“I’m ready to face things,” I said. “Not just tonight. Everything. My mom, the fallout, the wreckage. I don’t want to be the girl who runs anymore. Life’s too fucking short.”
“I know,” he said quietly.
I met his eyes. “Jessa’s gone. And I don’t know what’s next. But I know I can’t keep jumping off rooftops and pretending that’s living.”
His hand finally touched me—just a brush of knuckles along my jaw. “You don’t have to keep falling just to prove you can survive the landing.”
Something unspooled in my chest.
I pressed my forehead to his. “Don’t rescue me,” I said, breath trembling. “Just stay.”
“I’m not here to rescue you,” he whispered. “I’m here to walk beside you. Or behind you. Or to just sit still until you’re ready to move.”
I wrapped my arms around his waist, and he held me—strong and silent, his breath steady at the top of my head.
After a long beat, I pulled back and glanced up at him, one brow lifting. “I know what you’re thinking.”
He smirked. “I’m always thinking.”
“You’re wondering if this emotional unraveling means I’ll take it out on you in bed.”
His grin widened, slow and wicked. “Only if you’re wondering it.”
“I’m not.”
“You sure?”
“I just got out of jail, Elias. My friend just died. My libido is on a spiritual retreat in another dimension.”
He gave a small, playful shrug. “I’m not only interested in your libido.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Liar.”
He leaned in, voice low and teasing. “I do like your brain.”
I snorted. “You’ve never once asked what books I like.”
“I know what books you like. You keep them stacked in crooked piles with half-finished coffee mugs. You dog-ear corners like a heathen and mutter to yourself when you read something beautiful. I like that about you.”
I stared at him, stunned.
“You’ve never been to my apartment,” I said slowly.
He didn’t even blink. “Doesn’t mean I haven’t seen it.”
My eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?”
He smiled, just a hint of wicked behind it. “Security footage. You live above a bar with external cameras and a very hackable network.”
“That is so creepy.”