Page 187 of Traitor

"I still see Ely sometimes, you know," I murmur, my voice low. "Right there, behind your eyes."

She doesn't pull away. Just keeps watching me. So I go on.

"You're not the same person you were years ago, sure. But that's okay, Temper. Neither am I. Time and life come for us all. That doesn't mean we don't carry parts of our past selves with us. It doesn't mean we leave them behind for good. Ely was hopeful. Maybe a little too trusting, but always determined. And parts of her — the best ones — are still in you. Her hope, her heart. I wouldn't be standing here beside you right now if they weren't."

Her lips part, her breath catching. I don't stop.

"And if I loved Ely, you should know that I fucking adore Temper." My fingers slide to her jaw, my thumb ghosting over her cheek. "It still feels too little.Adoration.It's not enough of a word to describe what I actually feel for you. This strong woman with sharp edges and soft corners that's standing in front of me right now. Saying you changed is an understatement. You didn't just change — you evolved. Into your true self. A goddess who will declare war on life if it dares to provoke her again."

Her eyes are wide, lips slightly parted. Then, just like that, the astonishment disappears, replaced with a challenge.

"That's some deep shit," she says, voice dry but teasing. "How the hell did you get this good with words? I mean, you were good before, but this is next level. Are you staying up at night, studying or something?"

I chuckle, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her in for a quick hug. "I did manage to do some evolving of my own these past years, my fiery Temper."

She smiles against my chest, her arms slipping around me. And fuck, if that doesn't feel like the best thing in the world.

I let her go, stepping back reluctantly. My arms feel empty without her.

Her smile softens, something shifting in her expression — tender, uncertain, but open in a way I haven't seen before. She takes a slow, steady breath and then moves closer. Close.So fucking close.My pulse kicks up, a hard slam against my ribs as she stops just inches from me, her gaze locked on mine. Searching. Deciding.

And then she makes her move.

Her hands slide up my chest, fingers curling into my cut as she rises onto her toes, pressing her lips softly against mine.

I freeze. My entire body locks up, too stunned to react for a second. I don't fucking breathe. Don't even blink. But she's right here, her lips warm and tentative against mine, cautious in a way that makes my heart fucking ache. She's testing herself, testing this.

My eyes close, and the moment I catch up, I'm fucking gone.

I sink into the kiss, letting her set the pace, letting her take from me what she wants. She tastes like heaven. Like salvation. Like something I would have waited lifetimes for.

A soft sigh escapes her, and she leans into me, her body molding against mine like she belongs here. My arms move on instinct — one around her waist, pulling her in, the other slipping up to cup her face. She tilts her head slightly, deepening the kiss, and fuck, I'm done for.

Her hands slip into my hair, gripping lightly, her breath mixing with mine, ragged and unsteady. Years of longing, of yearning, of waiting for this pour into the way I kiss her back. I taste the memories, the pain, the fire of everything that's ever been between us, and I don't know where I end and she begins.

I groan low in my throat when her lips part for me, inviting me in. My thumb strokes along her jaw, feeling her tremble, her fingers tightening in my hair. She presses closer, like she needs this as badly as I do. Like she's starving for it.

I could lose myself right here. Could stay wrapped in this moment for eternity.

She's the one who finally pulls back, her breaths shallow.

Her eyes flutter open, dazed and dark. She stares up at me, lips slightly swollen, her fingers still tangled in my hair.

"...Wow," she whispers. It's breathless. Soft. Almost like she doesn't believe it happened.

I can't fucking speak. Can't move. My entire brain is fried, my world reduced to nothing but her.

She slowly steps back, grabs her bag off the chair like she didn't just wreck me, and turns toward the door.

I'm still standing there, still stuck, still processing, when she suddenly snaps her fingers in my face, smirking. "Let's go, Bones! Stop dreaming!"

I blink.

The fuck just happened?

She laughs, turning on her heel and walking ahead, and I — helplessly, inevitably — follow. With the dumbest fucking grin on my face.

Of course I follow.

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