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Tenderness.

His expression changes when our eyes meet.

The hunger is still there. God, is it there.

But he slows.

Just enough.

Like he sees something in my face.

Like he understands that this has changed too.

His hand comes up and cups my cheek.

“Firecracker.”

One word.

Rough.

Almost reverent.

My throat tightens.

I turn my face into his palm and kiss it.

Mitchell goes completely still.

For one heartbeat, neither of us moves.

We're just looking at each other.

Breathing each other's air.

And suddenly I feel more naked than I have all night.

Because he can see me. Not my body.

Me.

Every feeling I've been trying to contain is right there, exposed between us.

The longing.

The hope.

The terrifying need for this to be something more than a temporary collision between two people who wanted each other too much to stay apart.

I don't want temporary anymore.

The realization hits so hard my chest aches.

I want Mitchell tomorrow.

I want him after the thirty days are over.

I want him when there isn't an agreement giving us an excuse to be together.