Page 53 of Thunder's Reckoning
“I wish I could believe that,” she whispered finally. “But you have to understand… I can’t.”
I stepped in close, droppin’ my voice. “Then believe this, don’t let one mistake erase everythin’ else. Don’t walk away from what we’ve already started just ’cause you’re scared I’m like the rest.”
Her lips parted, no words.
I reached for her hand, slow, careful, like she was glass already cracked. Gave her room to pull away. She didn’t. Our fingers met, and she trembled, like her body knew before her mind did.
“I only want you, Sable,” I murmured, my voice rough. “I ain’t sorry for it, either.”
Her eyes shimmered, tears holdin’ the line. “You scare me,” she breathed.
I swallowed hard, every muscle pulled taut. “You scare the hell outta me, too.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
HIS WORDS SATheavy between us, like they’dsunk into the floorboards and weren’t ever leaving.You scare the hell outta me, too.
I hadn’t meant to say mine out loud, and now I didn’t know how to take it back. I just stood there, wrapped in the warmth of his hand on mine. Rough. Grounded. Steady. Not claiming, not pressing. Just holding on like he’d do it as long as I let him.
That was the part that scared me most.
What if I let him?
What if I let him in and he changed his mind?
What if I showed him all the jagged places I kept hidden and he looked at me differently?
What if he didn’t?
My throat went dry, my heart pounding so hard it felt like it might break skin. I could feel his breath, warm and slow, steady as a tide against the space between us. He didn’t move closer. Didn’t pull me in. He just… waited.
That felt dangerous.
“You didn’t have to come after me,” I whispered, my eyes fixed on his chest because I couldn’t stand to look at his face.
“I did,” he said softly.
I forced myself to lift my gaze, slow and unsure. The mistake was meeting his eyes, because there it was. Not hunger. Not pity. Something quieter. Something that whispered through my bones:you matter to me.
My breath caught, a tiny hiccup that betrayed me.
“I can’t give you what you want,” I said, my voice shaking. “Not yet.”
Zeke didn’t flinch. Didn’t even blink. He just nodded slow, his thumb brushing my hand like a promise he wasn’t letting go unless I made him.
“I ain’t askin’ for all of you,” he said, eyes locked on mine. “Just askin’ you to stay.”
My eyes stung. I shut them before he could see too far inside. God, I wanted to stay. Wanted it so bad it hurt. But want and trust weren’t the same thing. I’d trusted before. And I’d burned for it.
When I opened them again, he was still there. Still looking at me like I was something worth keeping, even cracked and dented.
I eased my hand from his. Not to push him away. Just to breathe. “I’m not running,” I whispered. “But I’m not jumping either.”
His lips curved, just a hint of a smile, tired and sad, but real. “I can wait ‘til you do.”
I stepped back, just enough to steady myself. The space between us hummed with everything unsaid.
“I should check on the children,” I murmured.
