“Habit,” she says quietly, her gaze fixed on the plastic board. “Spence was safe. We met when I was eighteen. Our families knew each other. It was just... expected. We never fought, but we never really talked either. By the end, we were just two people going along with things and waiting for someone to admit the pilot light had gone out.”
She looks up, her brown eyes remarkably clear, vulnerable, and completely honest.
“I thought I was being ungrateful for wanting more,” she admits. “It took a long time to realize that comfortable isn’t the same as happy.”
My heart does a heavy, deliberate thud against my ribs. I reach across the table, my hand covering hers before she can pull back into her shell. Her skin is warm, and her fingers instantly relax beneath mine.
“You’re not ungrateful, Steph,” I say, keeping my voice steady and firm. “Wanting something that actually sets you on fire isn’t selfish. It’s the bare minimum.”
She stares at our joined hands for a second, a soft, breathless sound leaving her lips. When she looks back up at me, the air between us feels thick, charged, and dangerously close.
“And you?” she asks softly, her thumb moving over the back of my knuckles. “What about you? What sets you on fire?”
I swallow hard, my eyes dropping to her mouth for a fraction of a second before meeting her gaze again.
You, my brain screams. Right now. Sitting at a resort table in Mexico.
— Mile High Meet Cute by Audrey Geneva
