Page 60 of Gatsby's Starlet
“I found your phone,” he said after a second, pulling back just enough to look at me, his other hand lifting it slightly. “You left it in my saddlebag.”
It took a second for that to land, for something normal to cut through everything else. “Right,” I said quietly, but I didn’t step back, and didn’t let go.
His eyes stayed on mine, searching, slower now, taking in the way my breathing still wasn’t right, the way my body hadn’t come down yet, the way I was still holding onto him like I needed to.
“You wanna tell me what happened?”
I hesitated, just long enough for it to mean something. “Not tonight.”
Something in his expression shifted, not hard, not sharp, but controlled, like he was filing it away for later instead of pushing now. “Alright.”
But he didn’t move.
Instead, his hand slid more firmly to my waist, pulling me just a fraction closer. “I’m not going anywhere.”
My chest tightened again, but this time it wasn’t fear. It was something heavier. Warmer.
“Stay,” I said, the word coming out softer, but it didn’t shake, didn’t break, because I already knew how this ended, I was going to lose him, but right now, right here, I wasn’t ready to let him go.
His eyes held mine for a second longer, something darker settling in there, something that matched the way his hand tightened just slightly at my waist. “Yeah,” he said, quieter now. “I’ll stay with you.”
And then he stepped inside, the door closing behind him with a solid, final sound that should’ve felt small, but didn’t, not when his hand didn’t leave me, not when I didn’t move away, not when the space between us stayed too close, too charged, the leftover adrenaline still running through me and twisting into something else entirely.
Something deeper.
Something harder to ignore.
My fingers were still curled into his shirt, and I didn’t realize I hadn’t let go until his gaze dropped to them, then back up to my face, slower this time, more focused, like he was seeing something different now.
“You’re shaking,” he said quietly.
“I’m fine,” I answered automatically, but it came out thinner than I wanted, my body giving me away when I didn’t pull back, didn’t create space, didn’t do anything except stay right where I was.
His hand shifted at my waist, not rough, but firmer, his thumb brushing once like he was testing something, like he was deciding how far to push it.
“Yeah,” he murmured, not sounding like he believed me. “You look it.”
That should’ve annoyed me, should’ve been enough to make me step back, but it didn’t, and my breath hitched again, only this time it wasn’t any fear, but something warmer sliding in underneath, heavier, tighter, a kind of tension that didn’t ease but coiled low in my stomach, pulling me in as his gaze dropped to my mouth, slow and deliberate like he was taking his time, like he already knew I wasn’t going anywhere, and when it lifted back to mine, there was nothing uncertain left in him, just intent, focused and controlled, settling in like a promise he had no intention of breaking.
“C’mere,” he said, his eyes telling me he understood what I wanted.
And I didn’t hesitate.
Didn’t think about what came next or what it meant or what it would cost me later.
I just leaned into him, and his hand came up fast, catching my jaw, his thumb brushing along my skin as he pulled me into him, closing the space completely this time.
The kiss wasn’t soft.
It wasn’t careful.
It hit with everything that had been building all night, the fear, the relief, the tension, his mouth moving against mine with a rougher edge this time, deeper, more certain, like he wasn’t asking anymore, he already knew I wasn’t going to pull away.
My fingers tightened in his shirt, holding there as I leaned into it, into him, into something that felt real enough to drown everything else out, even if it was just for tonight.
CHAPTER TWENTY
SHE WAS WOUNDtight.And I knew exactly how to handle that.
