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And somehow that makes it worse.

Because she's being patient with me.

Understanding me.

Still trusting me.

The ride upstairs feels endless.

By the time we reach my floor, I'm hanging on by a thread.

I get the door unlocked.

And the second we're inside—something inside me snaps.

I turn.

Press her gently but firmly against the door.

“Rusty,” I groan.

Her beautiful eyes widen.

Then soften—granting the permission I so desperately need.

And that's it.

I'm done for.

I lift her into my arms and crush my mouth to hers.

Amanda moans, clinging to me as I flex my hips, rubbing my hard length between her legs.

I lift her up higher, and she wraps those gorgeous thighs around my hips and crosses her ankles after kicking her sneakers off.

I'm kissing her deep and hard, and no, I can't stop.

Won’t stop.

Not for anything.

My heart is racing.

Hers too. I feel it beating against my chest in a rapid tattoo.

My brain is completely fucked.

I almost lost her.

But this?

This is how I remind both of us that she's still here.

Still with me.

Still living and breathing.

Still mine to protect.