Page 12 of Faron
She shoved me backward down the hallway, laughing breathlessly, kicking the bedroom door open with one bare foot.
There was only one bed. The sheet was wrinkled, the pillows mismatched. Clothes in a heap on the chair. No frills. Just real.
Perfect.
I grabbed her hips, lifted her easily, and laid her on the bed like I’d never let her go again.
She tugged off my shirt like it had wronged her personally.
“You’re heavier,” she teased.
“You’re smaller,” I growled.
Her tank top hit the floor. Then my belt. Then the whole world narrowed to skin and breath and the soft, hungry sounds she made when I touched the places that still remembered me.
She wrapped her legs around me, arched beneath me, her fingers dragging down my spine like she was carving herself back into my body.
When I entered her, rougher than I meant, she gasped and held tighter.
I buried my face in her neck. “Blue.”
“Don’t stop,” she whispered, and I didn’t.
Not when the city howled outside.
Not when the world reminded us what we’d lost.
Not when she said my name like a vow.
Later, she curled into my side, one leg thrown over mine, her breath slowing against my chest. I could’ve stayed like that forever.
She traced the scar beneath my ribs with a finger.
“You’re still trouble.”
“You missed my trouble.”
She laughed against my chest.
“Yeah. I did.”
She fell asleep first. I stayed awake, listening to her breathe, holding her like I never planned to let her go again.
Outside, Bear snored against the door.
No promises.
But tonight?
Tonight was everything.
13
Faron
Sunlight sliced across my face like a blade, and I groaned into the pillow.
She was already up. Bare feet padded across the floor with the kind of quiet urgency only women and soldiers seemed to master. When I cracked one eye open, I saw her—Blue, standing at the edge of the bed like a mirage I didn’t deserve.
