Page 30 of The Scout

Because I knew.

Knew exactly what she’d been doing. Knew exactly why her skin held that glow, why her breath still came a little too fast, why she couldn’t quite meet my eyes.

She had tried to erase it. Had washed her hands, scrubbed her skin, but it didn’t matter.

I could still smell her.

I moved closer. Slowly. Deliberately.

Her breath caught, but she didn’t step back.

I reached for her hand—the right one, because I knew—and took it gently in mine.

Her fingers trembled slightly as I lifted them to my lips.I kissed them. Soft. Barely a touch. Her scent clung to her skin. Warm. Faintly sweet. Fucking addictive.

I breathed in deep, dragging my lips over her fingertips, exhaling warm against them.

She shivered.

“Are you okay?” I asked, my voice lower than I intended.

She nodded quickly, but her pulse was a rapid beat against her throat. “I—I’m fine.”

A lie.

She was embarrassed. Ashamed, maybe. And that was sweet.

That softness. That innocence. That raw, unguarded reaction—like she didn’t know what to do with the weight of this moment.

But I did.

Because fuck, I wanted.

Wanted to feel the heat of her skin against my mouth. Wanted to taste the slick, aching part of her that she had touched just minutes ago.

My grip on her wrist tightened slightly. She gasped, eyes flicking up to meet mine. And in them, I saw it.

Longing.

Curiosity.

A hunger she hadn’t named yet, but I could feel it, thrumming between us, pulsing through my veins.

I could have had her. Right then.

Could have backed her against the counter, slipped my fingers into the heat she had tried to wash away, dragged my tongue over every inch of her until she learned that no matter how hard she tried?—

She’d never get rid of me.

But then?—

Will.

His name cut through the fog in my head like a blade, sharp and unforgiving.

Will trusted me.

I clenched my jaw, inhaling slow and deep, willing my body to obey something other than its instincts.

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