Chapter Nineteen | From His Side
I saw her take a deep, steadying breath—the slight rise of her chest, the way her fingers twitched just a little, like she was bracing herself for what was coming. I couldn’t stop watching her. All of this—the closeness, the quiet electricity between us—it felt finally real, or maybe realer than it ever had before. But even then, I caught that flicker of doubt in her eyes, the same weight pressing in my own chest. Was this going to be just another moment on my terms? Another chapter written with lines she didn’t get to edit? I wanted her to know I wasn’t like that. I wanted to show her.
There was something undeniable about us, something pulling us together no matter how many times we drifted apart. Like two objects caught in the pull of gravity, orbiting each other even when the rest of the universe tried to pull us away. I could feel it in every look she gave me, every hesitant step closer. She was watching me, reading me—trying to figure out if I was still the same person she remembered, or just someone else she’d eventually get tired of.
In this light, maybe she saw me softer. Maybe it was the way the room held us both, the quiet that wasn’t empty but full of something waiting to bloom. My eyes weren’t guarded anymore. They were clear, focused only on her. I wasn’t here out of boredom or curiosity. I was here because of her—because she mattered.
My hand slipped from her wrist and moved slowly to her jaw, touching her gently, deliberately. I memorized the curve of her face like I needed to remember every inch. I tucked a damp strand of hair behind her ear, curling it around my finger. The breath between us thickened, heavy with something unspoken—something dangerous and beautiful.
I don’t know who moved first. One second she was just there, and the next, I had her pressed lightly against the wall. Her hands found my waist, holding herself close, waiting—waiting for me to lead.
“I missed you,” I said, low and rough, words I almost kept to myself. Vulnerable. Rare. I saw her catch her breath—how often did I really say those words? Not enough. Not like this. Not at all.
She didn’t say it back. I understood why. Fear wrapped around her like a shield. But the way she looked at me told me she wanted to—wanted it so badly it hurt.
Without another word, I lifted her. Her legs curled around me like she belonged there, like this was how it was supposed to be. I carried her across the room carefully, like she was fragile. I settled her on the edge of the desk, her eyes wide and searching as she looked up at me. She leaned back, hands braced on the surface, and I felt the heat radiating off her, the tension in her spine like a live wire connecting us.
She arched forward, running her fingers through my hair—the one touch she’d always been allowed, the one that never failed to make me close my eyes. It was like she was claiming me, and I wanted to stay there forever.
Our gazes locked. I reached up again, thumbs brushing her cheeks. “Are we doing this?” I asked, careful but sure.
She nodded slowly.
When our lips met, it was like exhaling after holding my breath too long. Gentle, tentative, then deeper. My hands moved to her waist, pulling her closer, anchoring her in the moment. Her hands stayed in my hair, steadying herself—grounding herself.
This wasn’t just desire. It was fragile, rare. Something we had to handle carefully.
Still clothed, I guided her from the desk to the bed, laying her down like she was the most precious thing I’d ever touched. She reached for me, tracing every line—my arms, shoulders, chest—like she was learning me all over again. I moved slow, careful, sliding my hands beneath her hoodie to bare skin. Then I realized the bikini top was gone. I looked up at her, surprised, but instead of teasing, I just stared with something close to reverence.
We undressed quietly, naturally—skin to skin without urgency. The world outside ceased to exist. I asked again, barely above a whisper, “Are we doing this?”
Her hand went to my chest, right over my heartbeat. She held it there, steadying herself. Then she nodded.
I leaned in, forehead to hers. Breathing the same air.
And then, finally, we let the rest of the world fall away.
