“Shut up…Aiden!”
Her hand flies to her mouth, and mine goes dry. Swallowing, I reach for her fingers, and she lets me take them without paying me attention.
“You… Youbuilt this? From my design?” With a shimmer in her eyes, she turns to face me, waving a hand out at the mansion. Her voice drops to an awe-inspired whisper. “My journal designfrom Crest?”
I’m still not sure if she likes it, so I try to explain. “Well, it was here already, but then I asked an architect and contractor if we could change it, and we worked on it since…”
Head on a swivel, her golden hair whips around as she takes it all in. “Since when?”
“You know when, Ash.”
“Since…I was supposed to meet you?”
“I mean, yeah.”
“But I didn’t show up...” she says quietly, almost to herself.
I clear my throat. “I kept working on it.”
Cautious, she crawls a step closer. “Why?”
Chest heavy, I try to talk, but my voice cracks. “Because I love you. Because I never stopped. No matter how much I tried to.”
Her face screws up, and the tears fall over her freckled cheeks. I pull her into me, clutching her like a lifeline. Bruised eye. Cut lip. Hair matted and tangled. She’s beautiful. And she’s mine.
“Can I kiss you now?” I ask breathlessly.
She nods. “Please.”
My mouth brushes hers softly. So gingerly that it tickles.Hand strokes through her long locks, massaging the base of her skull until she groans against me.
She reaches up on her tiptoes to latch her arms around my neck and pull me closer. I take the hint and deepen the embrace, wandering closer to her, parting her lips with my tongue. Tasting iron and steel. Her resilience. Her fierce fire. And the piece of her that she never shows anyone.
The sweet strawberry summer of her.
I’m the only one to get that.
The kiss unmoors me. It isn’t her body I want—it’s her pulse, her breath, her soul winding around mine until it’s no longer ink or ring or vow. Not even love… Something deeper.
She’s me. I’m her. We’re one.
Pressing my forehead to hers, I squeeze my eyes closed. Panting inside her lungs. Our breaths becoming the same.
“Happy New Year,” I whisper.
“That was the best New Year’s Eve kiss I’ve ever had.”
I chuckle, feeling the same, the mist of the chill in the air frosting around us.
She shivers, and I lift her into my arms, still clutching my helmet as I carry her to the front door.
“Press your palm to the pad,” I tell her.
“It works with my print?”
“Yeah. I might’ve…borrowed a sample while you were out. Dungeon perks.”
Her lips form a line, but she unlocks the door for us, and I step inside.