Page 118 of Shadow

She didn’t flinch. Didn’t move away.

“I was so angry for such a long time. In my head, I felt like he’d promised to come home, and he’d broken that promise by crossing the line, by chasing suspects alone into gang territory without backup.”

“He was doing his job.”

“Was he?” Daphne turned to face him, and he stepped back. “He made a choice. He knew the risk. He did it anyway. And it cost him everything. Cost us everything.” Her eyes had filled. “And I had to figure out how to forgive him for that.”

“Have you?”

Silence. Long. Heavy. The wind outside picked up, rustling through pine branches. She wiped her cheek. “I don’t know.” Her voice fell. “Some days I think yes. Some days I’m still sixteen and angry and wanting him to walk through the door and explain why being a hero mattered more than being my dad.”

She wrapped her arms around herself.

And he just…he couldn’t stop himself. He lifted his hand. Touched her face, his thumb tracing along her cheekbone. Her skin was soft. Warm. She didn’t pull away. Just stood there, looking at him with those green eyes that saw too much.

“Daphne,” he said quietly. Voice rough. “I need to tell you something. I need you to know⁠—”

She closed the gap.

Kissed him.

And Asher’s world stopped.

Her lips were soft against his. Tentative at first. Asking rather than demanding. Her hand came up to his chest. Fingers curled into his shirt. Held on.

He should stop this. Should pull back. Should tell her the truth before⁠—

But no, he was kissing her back, his body, his heart taking over. His arm went around her waist. Pulled her closer. Solid and warm and real against him. Her body fit perfectly against his, just like it had at the dance.

He slid his hand into her hair. Soft strands between his fingers. The scent of her shampoo—something floral and clean—filled his lungs.

She made a small sound in the back of her throat. Deepened the kiss. Her fingers tightened in his shirt, and then she arched her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. The tentative exploration became something more. Something certain. Something that tasted of three weeks of restraint finally breaking.

Like it was always meant to be.

Asher’s other hand came up to cup her face. Tilted her head, the angle better now. Deeper. Her lips parted under his. Warm breath mingling. The taste of her flooded his senses, sweet and addictive.

And all the pain in his body seemed to slide away.

He kissed her the way he’d wanted to kiss her in the barn. The way he’d wanted to kiss her while dancing under string lights. Maybe even the way he’d wanted to kiss her since the moment she’d helped him take down a couple of high kids in a diner.

This was Daphne. Guarded, careful Daphne, who never let anyone close. Kissing him with abandon. Trusting him with this.

And he was lying to her.

The thought tried to surface, and maybe she sensed it, because she pulled back. Just slightly. Just enough to breathe. Her chest rose and fell rapidly.

“Asher,” she whispered. Breathless. Her fingers tightened in his hair. “We shouldn’t⁠—”

“I know,” he said. Rough. His thumb traced her lower lip. She shivered. The tiny movement traveled through her whole body, pressed against his. “But…”

“Yeah. Me too.” She kissed him again. Softer this time. Sweeter. Her lips moved against his with less urgency but more emotion. A promise. A question and an answer all at once.

He finally pulled back, rested his forehead against hers, eyes closed, his heart pounding.

“You were going to tell me something,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. “Before I—what were you going to say?”

Oh. He lifted his head. She was looking at him with warmth in her eyes, and she’d just kissed him with everything she had.