They didn’t need to.
The air between them still crackled from the kiss they’d shared three nights ago, a kiss that haunted her dreams and muddied her waking thoughts.
Cassie moved to the table, fingers grazing the plans but not really seeing them.
Grayson straightened slowly. “You’ve been avoiding me.”
“I needed space.”
“I gave it to you.”
She nodded, throat dry. “Thank you.”
He watched her with that quiet intensity that always seemed to see through her.
She hated how much she didn’t hate it.
Cassie took a slow breath. “About the kiss—”
“I meant it,” he said softly, cutting her off. “Every second of it.”
Her stomach fluttered, but she kept her voice steady. “I’m not ready. My life’s still... unraveling.”
“I know,” he said. “I’m not asking for anything you can’t give.”
His gaze dipped to her lips, then back to her eyes.
“But I won’t pretend it didn’t happen,” he added. “Or that I don’t want more.”
Cassie turned away, gripping the back of a chair. “I still think about him sometimes.”
“That’s human.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t.”
She turned to face him again. “You say that like you’re invincible.”
He stepped closer. “I’m not. But I’m willing to risk it.”
They stood inches apart now, the tension between them a live wire.
“You don’t have to rush,” he said gently. “You don’t even have to kiss me again.”
She stared up at him.
“But if you do,” he whispered, “make it count.”
Cassie didn’t move. Didn’t breathe.
Then—
She leaned in. Slowly. Deliberately.
Their lips met again. Softer this time. Deeper. A kiss not born from heat or rebellion, but longing and promise. When they broke apart, she rested her forehead against his.
“I still need time.”