Page 55 of When Love Found Us
Not when the space between us disappears, and I can feel the heat rolling off him, close enough that my pulse kicks up, close enough that the air feels different.
I feel exposed.
But not afraid.
Not even a little.
I don’t know who moves first—if it’s him stepping closer or me swaying forward. But something is happening between us.
Something I don’t know how to stop.
Something I’m not sure I want to stop.
“You good?” His voice is lower now, quieter.
I should say yes.
I should force something casual between us, something safe.
But I don’t.
Because there’s nothing safe about this.
My pulse kicks up, something unsteady thrumming beneath my ribs. “I—” My voice catches, my throat dry.
His gaze dips, just for a second.
To my mouth.
And, fuck.
The air between us thickens, charged with something electric, something alive.
It’s not new. Not a sudden rush of attraction. It’s been there, lingering, waiting. The need. The want.
The urge to reach for him, fist my hands in the back of his neck, pull him in, and finally kiss him.
Atlas moves, slow and deliberate.
His fingers brush against my waist—barely there, a ghost of contact—but I feel it everywhere. A shiver runs through me, heat curling low in my stomach.
And I swear to God if he steps any closer?—
The toaster pops.
Loud. Jarring. Snapping whatever spell had wrapped around us.
Atlas exhales, stepping back like he’s just remembered where we are. Who we are.
Like he realizes that whatever was about to happen shouldn’t have.
He drags a hand down his face, shakes his head once, then turns back to the stove like nothing happened.
Like I didn’t just feel my entire body short-circuit.
Like I wasn’t just standing here, seconds away from making a mistake I wanted to make.
He grabs a plate, slides the food onto it, then pushes it toward me. “Eat breakfast. I was thinking about heading to visit my brothers.”
