Page 69 of His to Burn
“Your faith is heartening, but don’t feel the need to stroke my ego or sell yourself short,” she said.
I chuckled. “I would never, and you should take your own advice. I’ve seen enough of you to know that you’re not going down without a fight. So no matter who you were with, you would have found a way out. Maybe not mine, but you would have found a way.”
I spoke casually around bites of food. There was no reason to be amped up.
I wasn’t telling her anything that wasn’t true and didn’t see a reason to hold back.
If Asia believed in herself, it would make it easier for her to survive the unknown.
“And besides,” I said, deciding to share another thought that I hadn’t, “taking people’s measure is a big part of my life. Gotta know ifsomeone’s going to take the shot or stand down. And you have a fraction of a second to make a call. Same with figuring out if someone has heart. You definitely do,” I said.
She smiled. “I am amazing, but I’m still glad I was with you,” she said quietly.
That admission felt big in a way that threw me for a loop.
One glance at her, and I knew she felt the same.
Yet she didn’t shy away. Didn’t allow her eyes to waver at all.
So what could I do in the face of that openness?
Nothing but follow my instincts, reminding myself that they were almost never wrong.
So I did what I felt. I reached out, brushing my thumb across her cheek.
Her skin was softer than anything I deserved to touch.
The kind of soft you only found in daydreams.
Not in places like this, not with monsters outside and worse things lurking in men’s heads.
She didn’t pull away. Just tilted her faceinto my hand, eyes dark, mouth parted like she was about to say something.
Instead, she let out the tiniest shiver.
It broke me.
I couldn’t keep my hands off her a second longer.
So I didn’t.
I leaned in, pressing my mouth to hers.
Hard.
A claim, not a question.
SEVENTEEN
Jack
She stiffened for half a heartbeat,then she melted, mouth opening, hands fisting my shirt, pulling me closer like she needed this as badly as I did.
She couldn’t possibly feel a fraction of the want—the need—for her that had me tight in its grip.
Her touch broke something in me.
I backed her into the edge of the table.
