Page 108 of Kneel with the King
“I act like I’m in control,” I correct. “That’s not the same thing.”
Something shifts in his expression. Less guarded, more… curious.
“So what, you’re saying you’re just as fucked up as I am?”
“Maybe worse,” I admit.
That earns me the smallest, most reluctant smirk, and it delights me to no end. “That’s a low bar, King.”
I can’t help it, I laugh. It’s short, but it feels good. “And yet here we are.”
“Frozen solid on a roof?”
“Talking.”
He shakes his head, but I can see the tension bleeding out of his posture.
After a long pause, he says, “When I left that morning… it wasn’t because I didn’t want to be there. It was because I did. Too much. I’m not ready to…” He trails off, shaking his head. “I thought putting distance between us would make it easier.”
“How’s that working out for you?” I ask, softer than before.
He exhales, and for once, there’s no bite in it. “Terrible.”
Something in my chest loosens, just a little. “Same.” It’s nice to know I wasn’t the only miserable one. It’s nice to know that, despite everything, perhaps we’re not doomed. “Maybe,” I say slowly, “we could try not running. Just… see what happens if we stay.”
He studies me for a long time, and I let him. If this is going to happen, it’s not going to be because I coerced him while being locked up here with me.
Finally, he says, “I don’t know if I can promise I won’t screw it up.”
I step closer until our foreheads almost touch. “Then we screw it up together.”
His breath catches, but he doesn’t pull away. And just like that, the tension shifts. Still tight, still electric, but no longer edged entirely in anger.
“I hate you,” he mutters.
“I know,” I say, and lean in, pressing my lips to his and earning a low moan.
The kiss is cold at first, our lips are chapped from the wind, but it heats fast. His hands fist in my coat, dragging me closer, and I grip the back of his neck like I’m afraid he’ll vanish again if I let go.
It’s not neat or careful. It’s not even romantic, despite the setting and circumstances. It’s the kind of kiss that saysI missed you, and I’m still mad, and I don’t know how to stop wanting you.
By the time we pull apart, we’re both breathing hard.
“This doesn’t fix anything,” he says, but his voice is rough, and his pupils are blown wide.
“I know. But it’s a start.”
Suddenly, the roof door handle rattles. We both turn as it swings open, a confused intern poking his head out. “Uh, Mr. King? Mr. Harrison? Everyone’s waiting for you.”
“We’ll be right there,” I say, not taking my eyes off Asher.
The intern nods awkwardly and disappears, leaving the door open.
I gesture toward it. “After you.”
He hesitates, then steps forward. But as he passes me, his hand brushes mine—just for a second, just enough to make me feel like maybe everything will be okay.
And I know in that instant that no matter how messy this gets, I’m not done with him. We’re not done withthis.
