The late afternoon sun filtered through the tall windows of the art studio, casting a warm golden light across the room. I leaned against the counter, my sketchbook open, but my hands weren't moving. My mind was tangled with thoughts of Jace, the way he had looked at me yesterday, the heat in his gaze, the memory of his hand brushing mine in the hallway.
And then he was there, standing in the doorway. Leaning casually, a smirk playing on his lips that made my chest tighten.
"Busy?" he asked softly, though I knew it was rhetorical.
I closed my sketchbook and shook my head. "Not really," I whispered, my voice quieter than I intended.
He stepped closer, just close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating from him. "You've been avoiding me," he said, the teasing edge in his tone not hiding the seriousness in his eyes.
"I haven't been avoiding you," I said, even as my pulse betrayed me. "I've just had a lot on my mind."
He tilted his head, studying me like he could see right through the walls I had built around my heart. "I can see it anyway," he murmured. His eyes softened, and I felt something shift in the room, electric, raw, and undeniable.
I swallowed hard, my hands clenching at my sides. "Jace… I don't know what to do. Everything feels complicated."
"Complicated?" His lips curved into a faint smile, though his eyes were serious. "Sienna, it doesn't have to be." He stepped closer, the air between us charged, and for a moment, the world outside faded completely.
"I…" My words faltered. My heart raced. I wanted to lean into him, to feel the pull I couldn't resist, but a part of me still thought of Carter, his steady gaze, the warmth of his presence, the patience he had always shown me.
"I know," Jace said softly, his hand brushing against mine lightly. That small touch sent a shiver through me. "I'm not asking you to make a choice yet. I just want you to feel this. Us. Don't fight it."
The words were simple, but they hit me with the force of a storm. My knees felt weak, my chest ached, and I realized I was breathing too fast. "Jace…" I whispered, my voice trembling.
He closed the distance between us, tilting my chin gently upward so our eyes met. "Look at me," he said softly. "I'm not going anywhere. And I won't apologize for how I feel about you."
I couldn't speak. The pull, the fire, the longing was all consuming. His hands moved slowly, brushing a strand of hair from my face, tracing a line down my cheek. The touch was feather-light, but it made my heart ache with want and fear all at once.
"Do you feel it too?" His voice was almost a whisper now, trembling slightly, betraying the intensity behind his calm exterior.
I nodded, unable to find the words. Yes, I felt it. Every time I was near him, my heart raced. Every look, every touch, every word from him ignited a fire I couldn't control. And yet, the guilt of thinking about Carter made my chest twist painfully.
He leaned closer, so close that I could feel his breath against my lips. "Then don't hide it," he murmured. "Not from me. Not from yourself."
The room seemed smaller, charged with every unspoken word, every glance, every fleeting touch. I felt the tension coiling inside me, and before I knew it, his lips brushed mine, lightly, a whisper of a kiss that was both promise and warning. My breath caught, my knees weakened, and the world around us disappeared.
When we pulled back slightly, his forehead rested against mine, eyes closed for a moment. "See?" he whispered. "That's real. That's us."
I nodded, trembling, my heart pounding like a drum. "It is real," I admitted, voice barely audible.
And in that quiet, sunlit room, I realized the truth. My heart was split, my emotions tangled, but in that moment with Jace, I felt alive in a way that scared me and thrilled me all at once.
Yet even as the warmth of his presence wrapped around me, a small voice in the back of my mind whispered Carter.
The storm wasn't over. Not yet. But for the first time, I allowed myself to feel completely, undeniably, and without restraint.