Page 33 of Only Ever Mine

“The point?” I murmured. “To get you out of your head. To remind you that you deserve to take a breath. That not everything has to be a fight.”

She exhaled slowly, like she wanted to believe me but wasn’t sure how.

So I did the only thing I could.

I kissed her.

Her breath hitched the second my lips brushed hers.

I felt the tension in her body, the way she hesitated for just a fraction of a second before she melted into me.

I wasn’t gentle this time.

This wasn’t the careful, restrained kiss I’d given her outside her apartment.

This was hunger, barely leashed. A taste of everything I’d been holding back.

Scarlett made a sound in the back of her throat, her hands gripping my shirt as she pulled me closer.

I slid a hand into her hair, tilting her head to deepen the kiss, feeling the way she pressed against me, the way her body molded perfectly to mine.

It would be so easy to keep going.

To lose myself in her.

To forget every reason why I needed to take this slow.

Instead, I forced myself to pull back.

Scarlett’s lips were swollen, her breath uneven. She blinked up at me, dazed. “You’re really annoying, you know that?”

I smirked. “So I’ve been told.”

She let out a soft laugh, shaking her head.

I ran my thumb along her jaw. “Come on. Let’s eat.”

Scarlett arched a brow. “You cooked?”

“God, no. I’d like to keep my dignity.”

She laughed again, and I felt something tighten in my chest.

The stress, the exhaustion—it had faded from her face. And that? That was exactly why I’d brought her here.

For this moment.

For her. And for whatever came next.

SCARLETT

I woke to the scent of pine and crisp mountain air, the sound of birds calling over the lake. It was peaceful here—too peaceful.

I wasn’t used to this kind of quiet.

The city was my home, the constant hum of traffic and distant chatter my background noise.

Even Amélie, during its slowest hours, carried the familiar sounds of life—clattering plates, murmured conversations, the sizzle of something cooking.

---