Page 194 of Hymns of the Broken

I can’t help it—I laugh, the sound low and helpless. “Yeah, Sawyer, that’s what kissing you does to me. I’ve missed you for days now. For what feels like weeks. Hell, since the first minute you left my sight.”

She leans in for another kiss, hungry, but I stop her gently—my hand at her jaw, thumb stroking her cheek.

“Hey—listen,” I say, voice softer now, serious. “I want you. God, I want you more than anything. But after everything you’ve just been through, I’m not going to push you.Anything we do tonight, anything at all—that’s all you. You say the word, or you say nothing. It’s up to you. I’ll wait as long as it takes. I’d wait forever.”

She blinks at me, something shining in her eyes that’s more than just relief—it’s trust. And that, more than anything, is what I’ve been aching for.

I tuck a piece of hair behind her ear and breathe her in, heart thundering, willing her to believe every word.

“I love you, Sawyer. I’m not going anywhere.” I brush my lips over her forehead, just once. “I mean it, baby. I’ll wait as long as you need.”

She shifts in my lap, swinging one leg over until she’s straddling me. My body reacts—of course it does—but I don’t move. I let her take the space, let her take me. Her fingers cradle my jaw, thumbs brushing just beneath my eyes like she’s searching for something in me. Like she’s already found it and just needs to make sure it’s real.

“I want this,” she whispers, voice unsteady. “Not sex. Just… this. You. Let me feel close to something that doesn’t hurt.”

God, if that doesn’t fucking ruin me.

“I’m yours, Trouble.” My hands come to rest gently at her thighs, unmoving. “Take whatever you need.”

She leans in, pressing a slow kiss to my mouth that’s full of emotion instead of urgency. My heart kicks against my chest, and I breathe her in like she’s oxygen after too long underwater.

Her shirt comes off, and I catch my breath—but not because of sex. It’s the vulnerability in it. The choice she makes to let me see her, just as she is. She places my hand on her chest, over her heart, and I feel it racing.

“I just want to know what it feels like to be chosen,” she says, barely audible.

I sit up slowly, keeping one hand on her spine, the other at her hip, and I rest my forehead to hers again.

“You are,” I say, telling the truth. “Every day. Every breath. Not because you asked for it. Not because of anything you do. Just because you’re you.”

She exhales a shaky breath, eyes glossy. Her fingers tangle in my hair, and she holds me like she’s afraid the moment will vanish.

“I don’t want to be touched tonight,” she murmurs. “Not like that. Just… hold me like I matter.”

“I’ll hold you like you’re the only thing keeping me sane because you are.”

And I do.

I lay back, letting her rest on top of me, chest to chest, skin to skin but not for lust. Her ear against my heartbeat. My arms locked around her like she’s the last good thing in this world. We stay like that, tangled in warmth and silence, until sleep finds us both.

SAWYER

Jasper’s arm is heavy around me, his chest is warm against my back. Riot’s side of the bed is still empty. No trace of his body heat, no scent lingering in the air. Just the quiet rise and fall of Jasper’s breathing and the way his fingers twitch slightly in sleep, like he’s still reaching for me.

I stay there, curled beneath the weight of someone who says he loves me.

He said it again last night. Just before I drifted off.

“I love you.”Like it was a simple truth. No fanfare, no pressure. Just warmth and finality.

He meant it. I know he did.

I wanted to say it back, but the words caught in my throat like barbed wire. I could feel them tearing at my throat begging to be set free and I still swallowed them down.

Because love has always been something people said before they left. Or worse, before they showed you just how much they could hurt you and still call it love. My dad said he loved my stepmom while he destroyed her. Blake used those words when he needed to reel me back in. When he wanted forgiveness instead of change. When he needed me quiet and broken and dependent.

So what the hell am I supposed to do with someone like Jasper? Someone who holds me like I’m fragile but never makes me feel weak. Who listens. Who waits. Who doesn’t ask for anything back. Who sees through all the mess and trauma andstillchooses me?

God, I feel it. Ifeelthe love I have for him.