The rain tapped softly against the window, but inside, everything felt too warm, too intense. She stood near the door, unsure if she should stay or leave.
“You should go,” he said quietly.
But neither of them moved.
Her fingers tightened around her bag before slowly letting it slip to the floor. “I don’t think I want to.”
That was dangerous.
He took a step closer, his gaze locked on hers. “You’re making this hard.”
“Then don’t fight it,” she whispered.
The tension snapped.
In a single breath, he was right in front of her, his hand lifting her chin just enough to tilt her face toward his. She didn’t resist. She couldn’t.
“Last chance,” he murmured.
Instead of answering, she closed the distance.
The kiss hit like a spark—sudden, electric, impossible to ignore. It started urgent, filled with everything they had been holding back. His hand slid to her waist, pulling her closer, while hers gripped his shoulder, steadying herself against the rush of feeling.
Every second stretched, deepened. The kiss softened, then grew intense again, like waves pulling them under. It wasn’t just desire—it was connection, raw and undeniable.
When they finally broke apart, both were breathless.
“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” she said, though her voice held no regret.
He brushed his thumb lightly against her cheek, still close enough to feel her heartbeat. “Some things aren’t meant to be stopped.”
She looked at him, eyes shining, and whispered, “Then don’t stop now.”
And this time, neither of them even tried.