Chapter 9 Mila
Mila
Location: Abandoned Cabin — Storm Outside
Time: Night
This was a mistake.
A very big mistake.
I know that.
I know that.
Which is why I don’t stop.
His mouth is still on mine—warm, demanding, completely undoing every logical thought I’ve had in the last twenty-four hours.
Or ever.
My hands tighten in his shirt, pulling him closer—
—and that’s when it hits me.
He’s injured.
Badly.
And I—
Oh.
Oh no.
I break the kiss.
Sharp.
Immediate.
Breathing hard.
“That—” I start, then stop.
Because I don’t even know how to finish that sentence.
He doesn’t move far.
Still close.
Still right there.
His forehead almost touches mine.
“Yeah,” he says quietly.
Not helping.
At all.
I push lightly against his chest.
Not to get away.
Just—
Space.
Control.
Something.
“You’re hurt,” I say.
Brilliant observation.
Gold star for me.
“I’ve been worse,” he replies.
“Stop saying that.”
“Why?”
“Because it doesn’t make it better.”
A beat.
Then—
“It makes it accurate.”
I glare at him.
He doesn’t back down.
Of course he doesn’t.
Unbelievable.
I drag a hand through my hair, turning away from him before I do something even worse.
Like kiss him again.
“…this is exactly what I didn’t need…” I mutter.
“What part?” he asks.
I turn back slowly.
“All of it.”
Lie.
We both know it.
His mouth twitches.
Just slightly.
And that—
That is dangerous.
“Then we stop,” he says.
Simple.
Direct.
Like it’s easy.
Like it’s nothing.
Like that didn’t just shift everything between us.
I stare at him.
Searching.
Waiting.
For something.
For him to take it back.
For him to not mean it.
“…fine,” I say.
Also a lie.
Jase
We don’t stop.
Not really.
We just—
Pause.
Reset.
Pretend.
She turns away.
Puts distance between us.
It lasts about three seconds.
Maybe four.
I watch her.
The way she moves.
The way she’s trying to pull herself back together.
The way she’s not quite succeeding.
Yeah.
Same problem.
“You’re shaking again,” I say.
“Cold.”
“Liar.”
She exhales sharply.
“Do you have anything else in your vocabulary?” she snaps.
“Yeah,” I reply. “But you wouldn’t like it.”
She turns back to me.
Too fast.
Too sharp.
“Try me.”
Careful.
That’s a dangerous invitation.
Especially right now.
Especially when I’m already thinking about the way she just felt in my arms.
The way she still does.
I step closer.
Slow.
Deliberate.
She doesn’t move.
Doesn’t step back.
Doesn’t stop me.
Also dangerous.
“Not a great idea,” I say quietly.
“Since when do you care about great ideas?” she fires back.
Fair point.
A beat.
Then—
“I don’t,” I admit.
Her breath catches.
There it is.
That shift again.
That pull.
That thing neither of us is fighting very hard anymore.
I lift a hand—brush a damp strand of hair back from her face.
Slow.
Careful.
Intentional.
Her eyes close for just a second.
And yeah—
That’s it.
That’s all it takes.
I kiss her again.
This time—
Slower.
Deeper.
Less about impulse.
More about—
Choice.
She responds immediately.
Like before.
But different.
Not rushed.
Not desperate.
Just—
There.
Real.
Her hands come up again—
Then stop.
Hover.
Because she remembers.
My injury.
“Careful,” she whispers against my mouth.
I almost smile.
“Noted.”
I don’t stop.
She doesn’t either.
Mila
This is worse.
So much worse.
Because now—
It’s not just impulse.
It’s not just adrenaline.
It’s not just the moment.
It’s—
Deliberate.
He kisses me again, and I feel it.
The difference.
The control.
The choice.
And somehow—
That makes it harder to stop.
Not easier.
I pull back just enough to breathe.
Just enough to think.
Which is a mistake.
Because thinking reminds me—
He’s hurt.
We’re being hunted.
This is complicated.
This is dangerous.
This is—
“…a bad idea…” I whisper.
“Yeah,” he murmurs.
Not stopping.
Not moving away.
Just—
There.
With me.
I rest my forehead against his for a second.
Just one.
Grounding.
Trying.
Failing.
“You’re injured,” I say again.
“You’ve mentioned that.”
“I mean it.”
“So do I.”
That—
That does not help.
At all.
I push lightly against him again.
This time—
He listens.
Takes a step back.
Space.
Air.
Control.
Finally.
We stand there for a second.
Just looking at each other.
Everything still there.
Nothing resolved.
Nothing simple.
Nothing safe.
“…we shouldn’t do that again,” I say.
Silence.
Then—
“No,” he agrees.
Another beat.
Then—
“Probably not.”
My lips press together.
Because—
That is not reassuring.
Not even a little.
Jase
We both know that’s not true.
We both know it’s going to happen again.
The only question is—
When.
A loud crack of thunder shakes the cabin.
Reality pushes back in.
Hard.
I step away first this time.
Because I have to.
Because if I don’t—
We’re not stopping at a kiss.
And right now?
That’s not an option.
No matter how much I might want it to be.
“We move at first light,” I say.
Back to business.
Back to control.
Back to something that makes sense.
Mila nods.
Already shifting.
Already pulling herself back together.
Impressive.
Dangerous.
Exactly what I expected.
“We need to get that list somewhere safe,” I continue.
“There is no safe,” she replies.
Yeah.
I was afraid of that.
“Then we make one.”
She studies me.
Long.
Careful.
Like she’s trying to decide something.
Then—
“…this is still a bad idea…” she mutters.
“What is?” I ask.
She doesn’t answer.
But she doesn’t walk away either.
And that—
That tells me everything I need to know.