Page 123 of Let Me In

The promise.

She doesn’t say anything.

But she doesn’t let go.

She’s still tucked against my chest, her head rising and falling with each breath I take.

I don’t rush her.

Don’t speak.

Just keep her close.

My hand strokes along her spine, grounding her in every way I know how.

Then she shifts.

Just a little.

Pulls back enough to see me.

Her eyes search mine, and God—they’re so open it hurts.

Like she doesn’t know she’s allowed to look at someone like this. Like she’s bracing for whatever comes next.

Her voice is soft. Almost not there.

“You really want me here?”

A burn rises behind my eyes before I can stop it, sharp and sudden, like the air’s been knocked out of me. My heart stumbles.

Not from surprise.

From grief.

Because the way she says it—it’s not flirtation. It’s not fishing.

It’s real. Like no one’s ever said yes to her and meant it.

I cup her cheek. My thumb sweeps under her eye, catching the faintest trace of sleep and sadness.

“There’s nothing I’ve ever wanted more.”

She blinks up at me, then her lip wobbles, and she leans in—not hesitantly, but like she’s afraid she’ll break if she doesn’t. There’s the faintest tremble in her fingers where they clutch the blanket, and I feel the whole world narrow to this one breath between us.

Her lips brush mine—soft and unsure, but full of feeling. No performance. No caution.

Just her.

And God, I feel it everywhere.

I don’t push. Don’t deepen it.

I just stay.

Let her kiss me like it means something. Because it does. She’s choosing this—choosing me—not because she has to, but because she wants to. And God, that undoing feels bigger than any vow I’ve ever made.

When she pulls back, her face is flushed, eyes bright.

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