Page 73 of Click of Fate

And wanting something this badly?

It’s always been the beginning of the end.

It’s still dark when I wake.

The room is quiet—tooquiet—and for a moment, I don’t remember why my chest feels so tight.

Then I hear it. Luke’s slow, even breathing beside me. His arm draped over my waist. The soft, steady rhythm of something that feels like comfort.

And that’s what does it.

I slip out of bed slowly, quietly, grabbing the sweatshirt draped over the chair and tiptoeing into the bathroom. I flick on the light and stare at myself in the mirror, heart thudding.

What am I doing?

He talked about the future. About this being something. And I didn’t stop him.

I let him stay. I let him in. And now there’s a dog in the crate in the living room who follows me around like I hung the moon and a man asleep in my bed who just casually spoke about the future like it’s something we might actually have.

My stomach twists.

This was supposed to be temporary. Fun and fleeting. A non-thing that never got too close.

But here I am, brushing my fingers over the bathroom counter where his shirt sits in a heap. He doesn’t live here. It shouldn’t feel like he does. I glance around wearily, like I’m about to spot a toothbrush that doesn’t belong to me.

But I won’t.

That would never happen.

I let it all happen—the dog, the dinners, the way he looks at me like I’m something worth keeping.

And now?

I feel like I’m drowning in the warmth of it.

I walk back into the bedroom and stand at the edge of the bed, heart hammering.

“Luke,” I whisper, nudging his shoulder gently.

He stirs, blinking slowly. “Hmm?”

“You should go.”

That gets his attention. He sits up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, brows knitting together. “What?”

“You weren’t going to stay the night. That wasn’t the plan.”

He sits up straighter, confusion flickering across his face. “I didn’t realize we had a plan.”

His voice is still husky with sleep, a little confused… and a little hurt.

“This—” I gesture to the room, to the bed, to everything. “This is getting too… much.”

He watches me for a beat, then swings his legs over the side of the bed. “Are you kicking me out or panicking?”

I flinch. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

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