Page 56 of Eternal

I lean in, lips brushing her shoulder, to let her feel the need I’m holding back. It’s a soft touch, but it lingers like I’m tasting something forbidden, something I want more of. I feel the rush of wanting to pull her closer, to feel that soft skin against mine, but I stay controlled, for now.

I let my lips hover above her skin, my breath brushing over her neck. “Keep teasing me like that, and I might start getting wrong ideas,” I murmur, the words low, almost too quiet.

Her eyes lock with mine, a smirk playing on her lips. “If you do, you’ll have to deal with them... alone . With your hand.”

My throat goes dry, and my mind fucking snaps.

I can’t stop the image of her, of those lips, of the way she’s standing there, teasing me like she’s the one in control.

And for a split second, I think about it.

About what it would be like to have her, right here, right now, feeling her under my touch.

Maybe I am already dealing with it, but not in the way she means.

I drag in a breath, my chest tight, my hands itching to reach out, to pull her closer, to show her how far this could go. But I keep my voice calm. “If I’m dealing with it... trust me, it won’t be with my hand.”

I watch her reaction closely, the challenge in her eyes, knowing she has no fucking idea what I’d do to her if I had the chance.

“Thank you for the dinner,” I murmur, my voice sincere, even if that sincerity feels like it’s eating me alive. “And for letting me play with your hair. I think I might start doing this more.”

She smiles a little, and my chest tightens. It’s a fucking smile, a simple smile, but it makes me feel like I’ve stepped into something I don’t deserve.

Something too good for someone like me.

“If that’s what you want, I might let you,” she says softly.

I laugh low, trying to keep my focus, trying to remind myself this isn’t real. None of this is real. “That’s perfect. See? Team-bonding works wonders for us.”

But her smile falters for a second, and it hits me like a punch to the gut. This thing between us, this moment, isn’t going to last. And that’s the part that fucks with my head.

She leans into me again, her body softening, her warmth sinking into me, and I know, deep down, I’m not supposed to want this. But it’s already too late.

“Completely platonic team-bonding,” she says, her voice light, but I hear the flicker of uncertainty in it. And I’m not sure if it’s because she knows this can’t last either, or because she feels what I do, even if she won’t admit it.

And in that quiet, soft moment, with her breath mingling with mine, I can’t help it. I know we’re exactly where we need to be. Even though it’s not real, even though it’s all a fucking lie, I still want to believe it.

I take a breath, stepping back. I should leave. I know I should, but something in me resists, like walking out that door means letting go of something I don’t fully understand yet.

She doesn’t move, doesn’t reach for me, doesn’t do anything to make this harder. And somehow, that makes it worse. Like she’s as unfamiliar with this as I am. Like she won’t acknowledge it unless I do first.

I exhale sharply, get up, and reach for the door. “I’ll pick you up for the mission tomorrow,” I say, voice steady despite everything twisting inside me. “Rest well.”

She nods once and doesn’t reply.

I linger for a second too long. Then I turn back. “Thank you.” My fingers flex at my side. “For making your home feel like mine tonight.”

Something flickers across her face, gone too fast to catch. Then she gives a small, almost imperceptible nod. “Don’t get used to it.”

My lips curve, something dangerous and amused curling in my chest. “Too late.”

Before I can think better of it, I reach out, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. My fingers linger, skimming her jaw, then I lean in, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to her cheek.

Her breath catches, but she doesn’t move away, she doesn’t lean in either, she stays frozen.

I pull back, letting my fingers trail down her arm before I finally let go.

“See you tomorrow, partner ,” I murmur.

She lifts a brow. “Don’t be late.”

I huff a quiet laugh, shaking my head as I step out. The air is a bit cold, but I barely feel it. My mind is still in that room, still with her, still caught in something I don’t know how to name.

Tomorrow’s the last mission of the week. One more job, and then we get a fucking week off. A week where I don’t have to pretend like I’m not losing my mind thinking about her.

I don’t know how I’m gonna do it. The thought of seeing her again tomorrow, of being that close to her and not touching her, not telling her all the shit I’m feeling, that’s what’s gonna fucking kill me.

I close my eyes for a second, trying to push the feeling down. But it’s useless. It’s in my bones, crawling under my skin like it’s been there forever.

I can’t stop it. I can’t stop wanting her.

I slide on my helmet and glance up at her window as I straddle my bike. She’s still there, silhouetted in the glow of the apartment, watching, but not in a way that says she’s waiting.

She’s there.

Existing .

Mine for tonight. But not forever .

I exhale, gripping the handlebars a little too tight.

How the fuck am I supposed to do my job when the only thing I want to do is come back to her and ruin her for anyone else?