Page 107
“Take me as I am,” I say. “Flaws and all.”
She looks at me for a long moment, something unreadable flickering behind her eyes. And then, slowly, carefully, she threads her fingers through mine.
She looks at me for a long moment, something unreadable flickering behind her eyes. And then, slowly, carefully, she threads her fingers through mine.
A breath I didn’t realize I was holding slips from my lungs, slow and steady, as I tighten my grip just slightly, grounding myself in the reality of this moment. Of her. Of us.
For the past month, I’ve imagined what it would feel like to have her back in my life. Not just in stolen moments, not just in quiet spaces filled with unspoken tension, but here. Where there’s no pretense, no weight of the past pressing between us. And now, with her fingers tangled in mine, I realize I don’t have to wonder anymore.
She’s here.
And she’s choosing me.
I shift, reaching up with my free hand to brush a loose strand of hair from her face. She doesn’t pull away. Doesn’t flinch. Her eyes search mine, like she’s still trying to make sense of how we got here, how fast it happened, how real it feels.
I tip my head slightly. “Are you sure?”
Her fingers flex against mine, and for a moment, I think she’s going to pull back, retreat into that place she disappears to when things get too big, too much, too overwhelming.
But she doesn’t.
Instead, she exhales slowly and gives me a small, almost shy smile. “No.”
I blink. “No?”
Her lips twitch slightly. “I’m terrified.”
My chest tightens, but I don’t let go. “Of what?”
She hesitates. “Of how much I feel. Of how fast I feel it.”
A slow breath leaves me as I reach up, tracing the edge of her jaw with my thumb, forcing her to look at me.
“Ana,” I murmur, voice steady. “You don’t have to be sure about everything. You just have to be sure about me.”
Her breath stutters, her lips parting slightly.
I lean in, closing the space between us, my forehead pressing lightly against hers.
Her scent surrounds me—something warm and familiar, something uniquely her. I can feel her pulse racing beneath my fingertips, her body just slightly tense, like she’s balancing on the edge of a decision that could change everything.
I press my lips to her temple, my voice barely a whisper.
“Give us a real shot, Anastasia.”
She lets out a shaky breath, and then, finally—she nods.
A slow grin tugs at the corner of my mouth, and I pull back just enough to meet her eyes. “That sounded like a yes.”
She huffs a quiet laugh, rolling her eyes. “You’re impossible.”
I smirk, letting my fingers skim along the inside of her wrist, feeling the way her pulse skips beneath my touch. “And yet, here you are.”
Her cheeks flush slightly, and she shakes her head. “You are so damn smug.”
“Can’t help it,” I murmur, my hand cupping the side of her neck, my thumb brushing over her jaw. “I just won something pretty important.”
She tilts her chin, arching a brow. “And what’s that?”
