Page 23 of After the Snap

“I appreciate the concern.”

A quiet laugh escapes her as she steps around me toward the nightstand. I don’t follow. I simply watch as she reaches for the clasp on the first bracelet, her movements careful as each piece slips free one at a time before she lays it neatly beside the lamp. She gives every bracelet the same attention, straightening one that lands crooked before moving to the next, as if every piece belongs exactly where she leaves it.

The last bracelet catches against itself, drawing a quiet frown across her face as she works the clasp back and forth between her fingers. A soft huff escapes her before she finally frees it, and the first word out of her mouth is, “Sorry.”

She sets the bracelet beside the others with the same care she’s given each piece before reaching for the small hoops in her ears. One backing slips from her fingers and taps softly against the wood of the nightstand before she catches it, another apology already forming on her lips. The word is already halfway out of her mouth, as if she never had to stop and think about saying it.

“You don’t have to apologize.”

She looks over at me, confusion replacing the serene smile she’d worn only moments ago.

“I wasn’t trying to⁠—”

“I know. It’s just… I’ve noticed you apologize to me a lot.”

Color creeps into her cheeks, and she looks back down at the earring resting in her palm instead of meeting my eyes.

“You don’t need to.”

“Sorry.” She presses her lips together, clearly trying not to smile. “I walked right into that one, didn’t I?”

“You did.”

“I don’t even realize when I’m doing it anymore,” she admits, turning the earring between her fingers before setting it beside the bracelets. “It just… comes out.”

Before I can stop myself, I’m closing the distance between us, stopping beside her instead of behind her so she never has to wonder where I am.

“Then let me be the first person to tell you that you don’t have to do it here.”

Her fingers hover over the jewelry she’d already removed before drifting slowly to the rings she still wears. She slips the first one free without hesitation, then another, placing each one beside the others with the same quiet care she’s given everything else. When her hand reaches the amethyst ring on her smallest finger, her thumb lingers over the smooth stone before she finally eases it free. The violet catches the warm light from the bedside lamp as she turns the ring once between her fingers, her gaze lingering on it longer than it had on any of the others.

When she finally places the ring on the nightstand, she sets it closest to herself, almost unconsciously, then lets out a slow breath before looking back at me. My gaze lingers on the small collection resting on the nightstand before finding her again. They’re all just pieces of metal now, but that ring feels different, though I have no idea why. Maybe it’s the way she’d held it a second longer than everything else, or the care she’s taken to place it on the nightstand instead of simply letting it fall.

She shifts her weight beneath the attention, her eyes flickering toward the floor before she catches herself. A nervous laugh slips free, almost embarrassed by the silence stretching between us.

“What?” she asks, the single word carrying the same quiet uncertainty that’s followed her all evening.

“Nothing.” I laugh softly, closing the distance between us until my hands settle around her waist and draw her against me.

Color rises into her cheeks almost immediately. She ducks her head, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth as though being looked at might somehow expose more than she’s ready to give. Most people would probably think she was shy, but they’d be wrong. She challenged me all night without flinching, so I don’t think this is simple shyness. She looks like she wants to know what I see when I look at her but isn’t sure she’s ready for the answer.

“Eyes on me, sweetheart.”

My hands rise almost on their own, cupping her face without asking anything more of her than I’ve already said. I don’t lift her chin. I simply wait. Her gaze stays lowered, lashes shielding her eyes like she’s deciding whether it’s safer to keep hiding. Then, slowly, she looks at me, and a shy smile curves her lips.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” I murmur as she lets out a disbelieving laugh and looks away again.

I don’t say anything else, waiting until she glances back. The uncertainty is still there, but it no longer sends her looking for the nearest escape. Instead, she studies me with a quiet curiosity that hadn’t been there a moment ago, as if she’s trying to understand how I can look at her like this and mean every word.

Her mouth finds mine with a tenderness that steals the breath from my lungs. My hands slide back to her waist as she presses closer. Her fingers slip into my hair with a confidence that wasn’t there a minute ago. When the kiss finally breaks, our foreheads remain together until her eyes slowly find mine.

“That’s my girl,” I whisper as my thumb brushes slowly across her cheek.

Her lashes flutter, and for one impossible heartbeat, she simply looks at me. I can almost see the hesitation trying to pull her backward, but it never quite gets there. Instead, she leans into my hand, and I feel the last of the distance she’d been holding between us disappear.

“You make me nervous.”

“You don’t have to be.”