Chapter 11
Eleven
Kane
She freezes.
For a second, her lips are still beneath mine, her breath caught somewhere between shock and surrender.
I feel it, the hesitation, the flicker of panic, the instinct to pull back.
But I don’t move. I don’t rush her. I just wait, mouth pressed to hers, hands steady at her waist, heart pounding like a war drum in my chest.
And then she leans in.
Soft at first. Then deeper. Her fingers tighten around the jersey, but it’s not the fabric she’s holding onto—it’s me. Her mouth parts, and I feel her exhale against me like she’s finally letting go of something she’s been gripping too tightly for too long.
I kiss her like I’ve earned it. Like I’ve bled for it. Like I’ve waited long enough.
Because I have.
She leans into me, lips parted, breath shaky, and I feel it, her surrender. Not just to the kiss, but to me. To this. To everything I’ve been building between us.
I pull her closer, hands gripping her waist, dragging her flush against me until there’s no space left. Her thighs tighten around mine, and her eyes flicker with something between fear and want.
“You think I want you in my life,” I murmur, voice low, dark. “But that’s not it.”
She blinks, lips still swollen from the kiss.
“I want you under it.”
Her breath catches.
“I want you tangled in my routines, in my bed, in my fucking bloodstream. I want you so deep in my world you forget what it felt like to be alone.”
Her lips part.
My grip tightens, fingers digging into her hips.
She doesn’t speak. She just stares at me like she’s trying to decide whether to run or stay.
I lean in, mouth brushing her ear. “You’re not a chapter, Blair. You’re the rewrite.”
She stares at me still, lips parted, breath uneven, and I know I’ve pushed her to the edge. But she doesn’t pull away. She leans in, voice trembling.
She asks it quietly, voice barely above a whisper. “Why do you call me sunflower?”
I look at her, really look at her. Knees folded into mine, jersey still clutched in her lap, lips swollen from the kiss I couldn’t hold back. Her eyes are searching, like she’s bracing for something soft.
But I don’t give her soft.
I give her the truth.
“Because you turn toward light even when you’re drowning in shadow,” I say. “Because you stand tall even when the world tries to bend you. Because you’re bright, but you’re not fragile.”
She blinks, breath catching.
“And because the moment I saw you, I knew I’d rip out every root just to keep you facing me.”
Her lips part, but no sound comes out.
I lean in, voice low, final. “You’re not just any sunflower, Blair. You’re mine. And I don’t care what I have to burn to keep you blooming in my direction.”
“I don’t know how to do this,” she whispers. “I don’t know how to let someone in without losing pieces of myself.”
Her voice shakes, but her gaze doesn’t waver.
“But if it’s going to be anyone… I want it to be you.”
Before I can say another word, her pocket vibrates on my leg.
“Sorry, it’s probably Kinsley looking for me,” she winces as she takes the phone from her leggings.
I can read the words upside down.
Kins:
Hey! Where are you? I got back to the room, and you weren’t here.
She looks up at me, face lit by the glow of her phone, eyes soft but already retreating.
“I need to go,” she murmurs, voice quiet, like she’s trying not to break the moment even as she’s stepping out of it.
I don’t move.
Not yet.
Because her words—I want it to be you—are still ringing in my head like a vow. And I’m not ready to let her walk away with that hanging in the air.
I reach out, fingers curling around her wrist, gentle but firm. “You just let me in,” I begin. “Don’t shut the door before I’ve even stepped through.”
She swallows, eyes flicking to the screen, then back to me.
“I’m not shutting it,” she counters. “I just… I need a minute. To breathe. To think.”
I nod slowly, jaw tight, heart pounding like I’m already chasing her again.
“Then take your minute,” I reply, voice low. “But don’t pretend you’re walking out of this untouched.”
Her breath catches.
“You’re already mine, Blair. Whether you stay or go—you know it.”
She doesn’t argue. She just nods, slips off my lap, and walks toward the door like she’s carrying something fragile in her chest.
And I let her go.
For now.