Page 90 of Not Until I Found You

Zane’s face is twisted with worry, his jaw clenching as he wrestles with something internally, and I wait for him to speak until I can’t handle it anymore.

“Zane?” I ask softly. “Is…everything okay?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he drags a hand through his hair and exhales. When his eyes finally meet mine, I’m relieved to see that there’s no regret there, only intensity and possibly fear.

“Yes.” His voice is rough. Then, he shakes his head once before correcting himself. “I mean, yeah. Everything’s okay.” He pauses, his gaze searching my face. “I’ve wanted to kiss you for a while now. Longer than I probably should’ve.” His mouth curves in a small, almost self-conscious smile. “And that was…everything I imagined—more, actually.”

My shoulders drop, and I relax at his admission.

“I just didn’t want to rush you,” he continues. “Or cross a line when you’re feeling vulnerable. I also don’t want to complicate things between us. Our friendship matters to me.”

I reach for his hand, threading my fingers through his, hoping the simple touch can help ground him the same way he’s always done for me.

“Trust me, you didn’t overstep,” I tell him gently. “I wanted to kiss you too. And we don’t need to have all the answers right now.”

His shoulders ease a fraction. The breath he lets out is slow and unsteady. His eyes find mine and stay there, like he’s checking to make sure I mean it. Then the corner of his mouth lifts just enough to tell me he does.

“We can just…be here. Together. And see where God takes us,” I add, taken aback by my own words and how much easier it’s become for me lately to learn to trust God.

“I’d really like that.” The start of a smile tugs at his lips before his brow creases. “Hey. You didn’t eat dinner, did you?”

I shake my head. “No. I didn’t.”

“Well,” he says as I slide off his lap so he can stand, and I see a familiar spark of mischief in his eyes, “I make the best peanut butter and jelly sandwich you’ll ever taste.”

I take his hand, smiling despite myself. “That’s a bold claim.”

“Just you wait, Max. I’m about to blow your mind.”

What he doesn’t know is that he already has.

Chapter Twenty-One

Zane

Ikissed Maxinne.

I. Kissed. Maxinne.

All it took was those large brown eyes of hers to gaze up at me, and that was it. The last thread of control I’d been clinging to snapped like a worn-out rubber band. I couldn’t take it anymore. I didn’t plan on kissing her—at least, not right then. It just…happened.

I hadn’t taken the time to weigh the consequences or pause to think about what kissing her might change for us. I just let myself have her. And it felt like coming home and stepping off a cliff all at once.

Which is what scares me now, because kisses like that don’t stay neatly tucked between heartbeats. It demands something more. And as incredible as it felt to give into the ache I’ve been carrying, I wonder if I’ve crossed a line that can’t be uncrossed.

I flip the sandwich in the skillet, and the soft sizzle answers back as the peanut butter melts into the bread. When I glance over my shoulder, I find Maxinne watching me. She smiles instantly, causing the two dimples in her cheeks to appear, and for a second, I forget all about the sandwich.

She’s sitting there with her knees tucked beneath her, soft brown hair loose over her shoulders, the overhead lighting transforming them into threads of gold. There’s a trace of vulnerability on her face that I don’t miss. Is she feeling the same way I am? Thinking about that kiss?

A bark pulls my attention away. Sven nudges his way into Maxinne’s lap, nearly knocking over one of my potted plants in the process. She laughs and buries her hands in his fur. I turn back to the stove before I stare too long.

A few minutes later, I slide a plate in front of Maxinne and kiss my fingertips like one of those fancy TV chefs. “Bon appétit.”

She eyes the sandwich then me. “What⁠—”

I reach over the kitchen island and place a finger to her mouth, smirking when she stops talking. Her lips are soft against my skin, sending a quick zip through every nerve ending there, and instead of moving away, I stare. Like a complete weirdo.

I cough away my nerves, because of course I’m nervous right now. Those lips were on mine only thirty minutes ago, and now it’s all I can think about. I remove my finger, the smirk vanishing from my face, and push her plate an inch toward her.