Page 87 of Pucking Tangled
He didn’t touch her. At least not like that.
He didn’t ask for anything.
He just looked at her like she was enough. Like spending time with her was enough.
She couldn’t help but think it was reminiscent of her relationship with Luca.
And somehow, that seemed to wreck her more than any kiss. Any desperate moment tangled in sheets.
She thought about the others.
How Luca was always so tender it made her ache.
Casey. Her best friend, now turned so much more. Always so full of fire and feeling and fear.
And Owen. Steady. Intense. Reliable.
But Waylon?
He felt like a breath of fresh air tonight.
Quiet. Easy. Fun.
Mia ducked into her bathroom and flipped on the light.
Realization hit her as she stared at herself in the mirror.
Waylon Ryan had just laid himself bare for her.
Not with a kiss, not with a touch, but with restraint.
With patience.
Something Mia hadn’t even thought the man possessed.
She remembered how he looked at her at dinner with his milkshake straw between his teeth and a carefree sparkle in his eyes.
Just when she was feeling like she didn’t know how to navigate all of this, how to hold each of them equally, Waylon made it feel possible without even trying.
And more than that?
He made her feel even more worthy.
Tonight, she let her guard down with him for the very first time.
And he didn’t pounce.
A stark change from everything she knew about the man.
The memory of his voice, low and warm on that overlook, curled around her heart.
In hindsight, Waylon was probably the only one who could look at a woman like she was a hurricane and still choose to sit in the middle of the storm.
The slow, careful surrender he offered threatened to undo every piece she was trying to hold together.
Mia sighed and turned on the shower.
What was she going to do with these men?
