Chapter 46
Lucy
“I’m scared too,” I whispered, the words barely leaving my lips. We lay tangled on the bed, bodies still buzzing from the intensity we’d shared.
His lips found mine before I could second-guess myself. It wasn’t rough or desperate, it was steady, a quiet promise that I wasn’t alone.
My hands threaded through his hair, pulling him closer as if I could hold on long enough to keep the world at bay. There was fire in his touch, but beneath it was a gentleness that made me wonder if we could be more than the chaos that had drawn us together.
For the first time, I didn’t have to be the strong one. I could be myself with him, and that terrified me more than anything.
I stayed pressed against him, listening to the rhythm of his breathing, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath my ear.
Part of me wanted to pull away, to remind myself that trusting him and wanting him came with risks, but my body refused.
I leaned into him, craving the warmth, the reassurance.
I traced my fingers along the lines of his chest, learning the map of him—the scars that spoke of battles no one else could see, the muscle memory of a fighter, the subtle tremor when he exhaled too fast. He was fierce, yes, but beneath that fire was a man who could hold a fragile space for someone else, and that someone, I realised with a quiet jolt, was me.
“You’re not just some mission,” I whispered. “Not a plan to get answers.”
He brushed his thumb across my cheek, eyes searching mine, soft and raw. “You’re...everything,” he said, and the word carried a weight that made my chest ache.
The noise of the clubhouse outside, the faint shuffle of boots, murmurs from the bar room, faded to nothing. The chaos we fought every day couldn’t reach us here. In this moment, it was only him, only me, only the pull between us that refused to let go.
“I’m falling for you, too.” I admitted, voice barely above a whisper, “and that scares me.”
His lips brushed mine again. “I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured. “You’re not alone.”