Page 85 of Hidden Memories

“This town is stronger than you think.” I slide my hand lower and tug her flush against me. “AndI’mstronger than you think.”

She stares at me, pausing so long I wonder if I’ve died. Desire smolders inside me. I need to taste her. It takes every ounce of strength to hold back. And then?—

“Santi…”

My name in her mouth is the match.

“Fuck it.”

I crash my lips against hers. The kiss wrecks me. Her fingers tangle in my hair, her mouth parts as I claim her, devour her, remind her exactly who the hell she belongs to.

She’s soft and desperate, her body molding to mine. I pin her hard against the wall, my body craving more.

She mutters into my mouth. “No…”

But she doesn’t push me away.

Her hands hit my chest, pausing for a beat before gripping my shirt and yanking me closer.

I slide my hand to the back of her neck, deepening the kiss, pouring every unspoken word, every unsaid truth into it.

She breaks away just enough to breathe, her lips brushing mine. “This is a mistake…”

My rough groan falls on her lips. “I know.”

She’s breathless. “I shouldn’t be doing this.”

I drag my fingers through her hair, tilting her head up so she has no choice but to see what I’m about to say.

“Then stop me.”

Silence.

Her fingers are still tangled in my shirt like she’s holding on for dear life.

“We’ll figure this out,” I whisper, my voice steady even though nothing about this is safe. “I’ll protect you and Theo, no matter what it takes. You don’t have to carry this alone anymore.”

Her blue eyes glisten, stormy and uncertain—but I see it. She wants to believe me.

She doesn’t fight me when I kiss her again. Softer this time. Slower. Sealing the promise I just made.

Even if I have no fucking clue how I’m going to keep it.

Chapter Twenty-One

PRESENT

The mid-afternoon sundrips gold through the trees as Santi pulls up outside Julia’s house. The truck idles for a moment, a soft purr beneath us, the vibration buzzing through my skin. But neither of us reach for the door. Neither of us move.

The silence between us stretches, thick and full, packed with everything we haven’t said, everything I don’t know how to name.

My hands are curled in my lap like they’re holding onto something fragile. Maybe they are. Maybe they’re holding on to the moment before the fall. Or maybe they’re just holding on to him, on to the heat of his mouth, the weight of his hands, the way he kissed me like he was staking a claim.

I need to get out of this truck.

Reaching for the handle, I pause just a beat too long—just enough time for him to shift toward me. Not close enough to touch, but close enough that I can feel him watching me.

“Kat.”

---