Page 178 of California Wild

She lifted her hand, trailing her fingers along the edge of the gauze. Her touch was feather-light, but he flinched anyway.

Her eyes darted to his. “Who did this?”

“A junkie. Bad hit. He lashed out.” He paused, exhaled. “It wasn’t about me.”

Her heart twisted.

Her fingertips slid higher, grazing the curve of his shoulder, his collarbone. He was warm. Tense. Solid. His eyes dropped to her mouth, then lower—to the swell of her stomach, hidden beneath his t-shirt.

“You’re still trying to save everyone but yourself,” she said.

His lips curved. Not a smile. Not really. “That’s not true.”

“You need stitches.”

He shook his head. “I’m fine.”

“You’re bleeding and lying to me in the same breath.”

He winced at that—but said nothing.

She shifted closer, pressing her forehead to his chest, laying her palm flat over his heart. The beat beneath her hand was steady. Loud. Familiar.

“Are you clean?” she asked softly. “Really clean?”

“Yes.”

It came fast. Immediate. No hesitation.

She let out a breath, her eyes fluttering closed.

“I’m scared, Jesse.”

“I know.” His arms wrapped around her again, his touch firmer this time. More sure. “Me too.”

He kissed her head. Her temple. The curve of her cheek.

Slow. Devastating.

His mouth moved like he was afraid this might be the last time he got to touch her.

She tilted her face up.

Let her lips find his.

It wasn’t desperate. It wasn’t lust.

It was something else.

A kiss full of sorrow and apology and every unsaid thing they were both too broken to speak aloud.

When it broke, she lingered there—nose to his, breath mingling. Her eyes opened to his, barely a whisper between them.

“Promise me something.”

His brow furrowed. “Anything.”

She searched his face like she was memorizing it. “Promise me the truth. Always.”

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