The storm eventually softened, but the tension in the room didn’t. If anything, the quieter it grew outside, the louder everything felt inside Jaxon’s living room. Rain slid in thin, tired lines down the windows. The last rumbles of thunder hummed somewhere far off. The lights flickered once, then steadied. But Brielle… Brielle didn’t move. She stayed curled against him longer than she meant to. Long enough to feel the rise and fall of his breath. Long enough to memorize the steady, grounding rhythm of his heartbeat under her cheek. Long enough to forget dangerously, stupidly forget why she’d ever sworn she needed distance. She told herself she was only resting. She told herself it was the storm, the adrenaline, the fear. But her fingers had slid into the fabric of his shirt for balance, and she hadn’t realized it until she felt him exhale slow, almost shaky as if the contact did something to him too. When she finally pulled away, Jaxon didn’t drop his hands immediately. He l
Magbasa pa
Mag-log in
