Page 70 of Riot

She needed this.

She needed to be held, not devoured.

She needed presence, not pressure.

And I was falling into her—fuck, I was falling—and it scared me more than any shootout ever had.

When she kissed me, it wasn’t lust. It was something more fragile. A reach. A test.

I kissed her back like she was something precious.

Because she was.

Later, when the night got too cool, I pulled her out of the water and wrapped her in a thick terry robe. She leaned into me without a word.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“For what?”

“For easing my mind.”

I ran my fingers along her jaw, anchoring her. “You helped with that.”

We stood there for a beat, just breathing in sync, firelight dancing on wet skin.

“I’m gonna help you find out who did it,” I told her. “Once Boaz is handled... we’ll figure out who killed your pops. You’ve got my word.”

Her chin trembled, but she nodded, eyes locked on mine like they were holding her together.

I took her hand and we walked back into the house. Quiet. Heavy with unspoken things.

We showered separately. Gave each other space. She needed that too.

But when I came into the room, she was already in my bed, curled up in one of my shirts like it was armor. Like it meant something.

I slid in beside her, and she didn’t say a word. Just moved into me.

Let her body settle into mine like it belonged there.

And that night, we didn’t talk.

We didn’t fuck.

We talked some more, getting to know one another. And then we slept together and she felt so fuckin’ right in my arms.

Chapter 21

ALLURE

The next morning when I stirred awake, the sunlight was just beginning to peek through the curtains, casting soft, golden stripes across the hardwood floor. The sheets were still warm beside me, but the bed was empty.

Riot was already gone.

For a moment, I just lay there, letting my eyes drift across the room—the tall windows, the sleek dresser, the faint scent of him still lingering on the pillow next to mine. I turned over, pressing my face into that scent, then flopped onto my back and stared up at the ceiling.

Last night replayed behind my eyelids like a dream I didn’t want to wake from.

Our kiss.

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