Page 56 of The Last Call Home
Fuck, I’m watching, and it hits me low and hard.
Not with jealousy.
Not even lust.
But there’s something else—something deeper.Something greedy.
I want to be part of that kiss.
I want to feel her sigh into my mouth again and his body pressed against mine like it used to be—only this time without all the silence and fear between us.I want the three of us tangled together in something that feels like hope, if hope didn’t come wrapped in shame and scars.
My hands itch to reach for them.My chest aches with it.
But I don’t interrupt.
I let it unfold—her hand against his cheek, his mouth moving with hers like they’re trying to figure out a language I already half-know.
And, fuck, I feel it everywhere.
A pulse behind my ribs.A drag of heat through my spine.
This isn’t just a kiss.
It’s the beginning of something I’ve never had.
Not like this.
Not with both of them.
ChapterNineteen
Delilah
What the fuckam I doing here?
This was supposed to be casual.But watching them unravel and rebuild each other?I think I walked into something much bigger.I don’t want to be the plus one, but by saying yes, I need to give more than what I was willing at the beginning—or ever.
I wish I knew what to do, but my brain is foggy, and my lips still hum with the imprint of Malerick’s kiss when I turn to Cassian.
He hasn’t moved.Not even an inch.
He’s there—standing in that infuriatingly still way he does when his mind is moving too fast for his body to catch up.His eyes are locked on us, but not with jealousy or distance.No, this is something else entirely.He’s looking like he’s trying to memorize a moment he thinks he doesn’t deserve.As if getting too close might cause it to fracture.Like he’s convinced that whatever this is ...he’s the one who might ruin it just by reaching out.
I don’t want space.Not from him.
Not from either of them.
I step forward—not just to close the distance, but to say what my mouth won’t risk voicing.Are you still here with us, Cassian?With me?Because I need him present—not drifting to that place he goes when his feelings get too loud.I need him here in the now, not hiding behind whatever shields he’s built to survive everything before tonight.
My hand lifts before my doubts can catch up.There’s a brief beat—just long enough for me to wonder if I’ve misread the moment—then his hand meets mine.
He doesn’t hesitate.
His fingers close around mine as though they’ve been waiting too long to be allowed this.His skin feels warmer than I expected, and there’s tension there—just beneath the surface.A tremble, subtle yet undeniable, betrays how hard he’s working to hold it together.He’s not untouched by this.I can sense it in the way his hand clings to mine as if we both stand on uneven ground, and neither of us wants to fall first.
He doesn’t lean in.Doesn’t press his mouth to mine.
But his thumb begins to move.
