Chapter 8 #2
Because when he did kiss her, and she was certain of this, it wouldn’t be careless or rushed. It would be deliberate. The kind that claimed without demanding and held without taking more than she offered. A kiss that began in control and ended in surrender.
His mouth was a contradiction she wanted desperately to resolve.
A man who could hold everything together, and lips that promised he would one day let go.
For her.
For a second, neither of them moved. The years between them felt suddenly very thin, and Mei knew, without fear, without doubt, that she was done holding back.
The night had given her clarity, and she was finally ready to choose.
Than stood near the edge of the lawn, the river breathing quietly beyond the lanterns, when Mei crossed the space between them.
He saw her coming before he understood what it meant. The way she moved with purpose. The way her gaze never left his.
But he had seen her with Fly only moments ago. The quiet conversation. The way she’d stepped back. The gentle way Fly had knuckled her chin.
For one dark second, he almost hated his best friend.
Had she told Fly she loved him? Were they about to move forward without him?
She stopped in front of him, close enough that he could smell jasmine and night air and something warm that felt like home.
“Will you dance with me?” she asked.
He almost refused. He might want her, but Fly had her. He wouldn’t cross that line.
But if this was goodbye… He wanted it.
She took his hand and led him toward the music.
Slipped into his arms with a familiarity that sent heat straight through his chest. His hand settled at her back, careful at first, as if she were fragile.
The music was slow, stretching time thin.
Lantern light caught in the green of her dress and turned her unreal.
He had danced before, but it had never felt like this.
She rested her head briefly against his chest. He felt her exhale. Felt the way her body aligned with his as if it had always known where to go.
“Than,” she said softly. His heart already hurt.
“I need to tell you something. I know it’s sudden.
But I couldn’t keep it to myself anymore.
” His pulse began to pound. “I didn’t say anything before because of Fly.
Because of what we were.” She lifted her head and looked at him fully.
“But we’re leaving Annapolis. Everything is changing.
I can’t walk away knowing I wanted more and never said it. ”
The night narrowed.
“I already know,” he whispered. “You love Flynn. I get it.” He swallowed hard. “I hope you’re happy.”
“Oh, Than.” She cupped his jaw. “You really are the sweetest, most clueless man I’ve ever met.”
Her body pressed closer. He nearly lost control.
“I love you,” she said. The world tilted. “I don’t know how we’ll make it work yet. I just know I want you in my life. If you want more, too.”
“I thought you loved—” He couldn’t finish.
“No. From the moment I met you. It was only you.”
The music stopped. So did his heart.
He didn’t remember deciding to move. Only that he was guiding her away from the crowd, past hedges and stone paths until the light softened and the river whispered closer.
They stopped beneath an old tree, and he cupped her face, his hands trembling just slightly.
“Mei,” he said, like a vow. He had always known she was beautiful. That wasn’t what undid him. It was the way his body reacted before his mind caught up.
She was petite but carried herself with quiet confidence. When she shifted closer, he felt it low and steady in his body, instinctive and undeniable. He was hard for her more often than he admitted, and tonight there was no denying it.
Her face held strength and softness at once. Warm skin, freckles dusted across high cheekbones. His mouth wanted to trace them.
Her lips parted slightly as she breathed, and he had to fight the urge to take them.
He liked the way she spoke. Calm. Measured. When her voice dropped, when something private threaded through her control, it lit him up.
Her eyes held him without flinching. She saw him as a man. That terrified him more than anything.
Jasmine brushed his senses again. He’d tried not to catalog it before. Failed every time.
Around Fly, she was animated. Around him, she was deliberate. Like she understood what passed between them carried weight.
He had told himself for years it was protectiveness. Loyalty. Friendship.
Standing there now, light touching her face, awareness tightening low and steady in his body, he knew the truth.
He was mad for her. Had been for four years, and he wasn’t waiting another second.
Than lowered his head. The first press of his mouth against hers was a question, a careful testing of ground he’d only ever dreamed of crossing.
Her lips were softer than he’d imagined, yielding but not passive, and the scent of jasmine filled his lungs, clean and intoxicating.
A fine tremor that ran through her, matching the one humming under his own skin.
His hand slid from her jaw to the back of her neck, fingers tangling in the soft hair at her nape, holding her gently but firmly, anchoring them both in the impossible reality of it.
Mei’s mouth parted under his, a soft sigh escaping her as her hands rose to his chest. That sound undid him.
Control blurred.
His mouth pressed harder, instinct crowding out thought. The kiss deepened, hunger breaking through restraint. She answered him without hesitation, breath hitching, body leaning into him instead of away, and whatever careful distance he had held for years dissolved.
His hand tightened at her nape, not to restrain but to steady, as if the world had narrowed to the warmth of her mouth and the urgent exchange of breath between them.
He slanted the kiss, claiming more, and the sound that left his throat was rough and unguarded, pulled from somewhere he had kept locked down for years.
He kissed her with a need that had been waiting a long time to be answered, all patience burned away, all thought reduced to sensation.
Their breaths tangled, uneven and harsh, the rhythm of it swallowing the soft music from the party and the distant splash of the fountain, until there was nothing left but the press of her against him and the undeniable truth of how badly he wanted her.
He could feel every detail of her, the delicate curve of her upper lip, the fuller, softer cushion of the bottom one he’d wanted to bite for years, the slick, velvety heat of her tongue as it tangled with his.
She met his ferocity with her own, her hands closing around the lapels of his tux, pulling him closer, arching against him.
The movement sent a jolt straight through him.
His body reacted with a force that stole his breath.
His dick, already half-hard from just being near her, swelled to a painful, demanding thickness, straining against the formal silk of his pants.
The need was a physical ache, a heavy, urgent pulse that demanded more, that demanded everything.
He couldn’t think. He could only feel. He pushed her back, a sudden, sharp movement that drove her the few feet until her shoulders met the solid, unyielding trunk of the old sycamore.
The impact knocked a soft gasp from her, but her hands only tightened on him, her legs parting slightly as he crowded her, pinning her with his body.
The world narrowed to the feel of her against him, the taste of her mouth, the scent of her hair and skin.
He was drowning in her, and he never wanted to surface.
He ground his hips against hers, letting her feel the hard, thick length of his arousal, a silent, desperate testament to the depth of his wanting.
He was no longer Than, the quiet, steady friend.
He was a man consumed, and he was, finally, going to show her what that meant.