Page 47 of Where Your Scars Meet Mine
My hand reaches for the bottle.
Kadin is watching quietly from beside Silas, that same calm smile lingering on his face. He doesn’t look threatened. He doesn’t look irritated.
Just patient.
Here goes everything.
With a quick flick of my wrist, I send the bottle spinning across the floor. The glass rattles softly against the wood, turning once… twice… three times. Each rotation seems slower than the last.
Cheyenne leans forward beside me, wiping her lips with the back of her hand, her cheeks still flushed from Maria’s earlier performance.
For a moment my eyes betray me.
They drift back to Silas.
He’s no longer looking at me.
He’s watching the bottle now.
Waiting.
The glass slows, wobbling once before finally stopping.
The neck points directly at Kadin.
A shallow breath slips from my chest before I can stop it.
My body tightens, not from nerves about Kadin, but from the sudden shift in the air across the circle. When I glance up again, Silas’s expression has changed. The playful edge is gone entirely now, his gaze wider, more focused.
Kadin moves before I fully process it.
He crosses the small space between us, kneeling beside me, the movement relaxed and unhurried. The cheers from the circle grow louder as people realize what the bottle decided.
Leaning closer, he lowers his voice near my ear.
“You don’t have to do this,” he murmurs gently. “I think you and Maria already gave them enough entertainment.”
The warmth of his breath brushes my skin as I turn toward him, our noses barely grazing.
“It would be nice,” I say softly, “to have a kiss I actually wanted.”
The words come out quieter than I expected.
Kadin studies my face for a second, searching for hesitation. Finding none, his hand rises to cup the side of my cheek, thumb resting lightly near my jaw.
“Well,” he says with a faint smile, “let’s hope I’m reading this right.”
His lips meet mine slowly.
The kiss is gentle at first, tentative in the way of someone making sure the moment belongs to both people involved. The warmth of it spreads gradually instead of crashing all at once. His mouth moves carefully with mine, the taste of whatever drink he’d been having mixing faintly with the alcohol already buzzing through my veins.
The cheers from the room swell around us.
For a moment the noise fades into the background. My hands rest against his shoulders as the kiss deepens slightly, confidence replacing hesitation. When we finally pull apart for air, both of us are smiling a little breathlessly.
His forehead leans lightly against mine.
“Definitely didn’t read that wrong,” I whisper.
