For a long moment, neither of us moved. Our foreheads stayed touching, our breaths unsteady, the warmth of his hands anchoring me in a way I didn’t know I needed until the absence of fear left a quiet ache behind. My pulse was still frantic, but not in a way that made me want to run. It felt like standing at the edge of something vast and dangerous and beautiful—terrifying, yes, but also strangely… steadying.
Ray didn’t try to kiss me again. He didn’t push or insist or test the line I had barely crossed. He simply stayed there, close enough that I could feel his breath against my lips, but still. Waiting. Always waiting.
I didn’t know how long we stood like that. It could have been seconds or minutes or some strange stretch of time that lived only inside the greenhouse with its warm air
