Chapter 8 #2
Kane’s thumb drifts along my jaw, a small, careful touch that makes my heart stumble. “You okay?” he asks.
“Not yet,” I admit quietly. “But better.”
He nods once, like that’s enough. “You want to get out of here?”
“God, yes.”
We end up in my hotel room, the silence so thick I can hear the hum of the air conditioner. The door clicks shut behind us, and for a moment, neither of us moves.
I kick off my heels and set them by the wall, needing to do something with my hands.
Kane loosens his tie, the small motion drawing my eyes to his throat.
His jacket lands on the chair, and suddenly he looks less like the man who carried me through this nightmare of a weekend and more like the man who kissed me breathless last night.
He stands across the room from me, sleeves rolled, collar open, watching me like he’s trying to find the right place to start. The silence stretches, heavy with everything unsaid.
“I should probably,” I begin, but my voice falters. I don’t know what comes next. Leave? Pretend? Run?
“Morgana.” His voice is quiet, certain.
I freeze.
“There’s something I need to say.” He takes a step forward, then another, until he’s close enough that I can see the tension in his jaw, the flicker of nerves he’s trying to hide.
My heart pounds so hard I feel it in my throat. “Okay.”
He draws a breath, steadying himself. “I’m in love with you.”
The words hit like a spark in dry air. For a second, everything inside me goes silent. I stare at him, convinced I misheard. “What?”
“I’m in love with you,” he repeats, voice rougher now. “Have been for years. And I can’t keep pretending I’m not. Not after this weekend. Not after last night.”
I take an involuntary step back, my chest tightening around a mess of fear and longing. “Kane, don’t. Please don’t do this again.”
He frowns. “Do what?”
“This.” My arms cross over my chest, like I can physically hold myself together. “Say things that make me hope, then pull back when it matters. You’ve done it before.”
His expression softens, the regret immediate and raw. “Morgana…”
“Senior year,” I cut in, my voice shaking.
“You kissed me by the pool. We were so close, and then you said we were better as friends.” I swallow so hard my throat burns at the memory.
“And before your deployment, you showed up at my apartment at two in the morning. You held me like you never wanted to let go, and I thought…finally. But then you did the same thing and said you couldn’t bear to ruin our friendship. ”
He closes his eyes, jaw tight. “I know. I remember every second of it. And I hate that I made you doubt me.”
“So forgive me,” I whisper, “if I don’t believe this is different.”
He moves before I can retreat again, and takes my hands in his, holding them like they’re something fragile. “Listen to me. Really listen.”
His voice is low, steady, but threaded with something fierce. I meet his eyes and see nothing but truth there.
“You’re right,” he says quietly. “I pulled back. Twice. And they were the biggest mistakes of my life. You know why I did it?”
I shake my head, barely breathing.
“Because I was terrified,” he says. “Terrified of losing you if I wasn’t enough. Terrified that if I screwed up, I’d ruin the best thing in my life. You’ve always been the best thing in my life.” His fingers tighten around mine, grounding me. “But this weekend made me realize something.”
“What?” My voice is barely a whisper.
“No one has ever compared to you, Morgana. No one even came close. I’ve been a coward, letting fear make my choices for me. I’m done with that.”
The air leaves my lungs. “Kane,” I whisper, but close my mouth because I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what to think.
“I’m not pulling back this time.” His tone sharpens, leaving no room for argument. “I’m done pretending I don’t think about you every day. I’m done pretending it doesn’t wreck me to see you date someone else. I’m done pretending you’re anything less than the love of my life.”
Tears sting my eyes before I can stop them. “How do I know this time is different?”
He releases my hands only to cradle my face, his thumbs brushing away the tears before they fall.
“Because this time, I’m not walking away.
I’ve already crossed the line, and I’m not looking back.
I have absolutely no regrets about last night, other than I was a goddamned fool for waiting so long to show you how I’ve felt. I want you. I want us.”
I try to breathe, but everything inside me feels full. “I’m scared.”
“I know,” he murmurs, his forehead lowering until it rests against mine. “But I’m more scared of a life without you. Of waking up one day and realizing I lost the love of my life because I was too scared to admit I’ve always been in love with you.”
My heart aches at the quiet certainty in his voice.
He pulls back and looks at me, his green eyes burning with emotions. “I love you. Not as my best friend. Not as someone I can’t lose. I’m in love with you. With every fiber of my being.”
My throat trembles. “Promise me you won’t change your mind tomorrow.”
“I promise,” he says without hesitation. “And I’ll keep promising until you believe me. You’re it for me, Morgana. There will never be another woman like you.”
Something in me finally breaks. The fear, the guardedness, the ache I’ve carried for years, it all gives way to something else. Hope. Joy. Love so sharp it feels like relief.
I reach up and touch his face, my fingers tracing the line of his jaw, rough and warm beneath my fingertips. “You’re mine too,” I whisper. “You always have been. You were too stubborn to admit it.”
His smile flickers. “Guess I finally caught up.”
Then he kisses me.
It’s not the desperate kiss from last night, full of heat and hunger. This one is slow, deliberate, like he’s trying to make the moment last as long as possible. His lips move against mine, gentle at first, then deeper, surer, until I’m melting into him completely.
His hands slide down, tracing the curve of my back, pulling me flush against him. The warmth of his body seeps through my dress, and I feel it everywhere. My fingers tangle in his hair, and the low sound he makes against my mouth sends a shiver straight through me.
When we finally break apart, I’m breathing hard, my pulse fluttering against his chest. “You’re really not going to pull back?” I whisper, still not trusting this moment to last.
He brushes his nose against mine, his voice filled with promise. “Not even if the world burns down.”
His mouth finds mine again, hungrier this time, his hands skimming my hips, my waist, my shoulders. The kiss deepens until thought dissolves. I gasp when his lips trail down my throat, his breath hot against my skin, and the sound that escapes me doesn’t sound like fear.
It sounds like joy.