Chapter 10: The Quiet Between
Josie
I heard it—a sharp, distant sound—just as my breath caught in my throat. Kiel’s gaze still lingered on me, heavy, too much, and yet not enough. And then, like a match blown out before it could burn, the moment shattered.
He stepped back, quiet and smooth, like nothing had almost happened. Like I hadn’t just been staring up at him, my lips tingling with the echo of a kiss that never came.
The rustle of leaves beyond the veranda made my heart thud faster, though it had nothing to do with the wind.
Kiel looked toward the source of the noise, eyes scanning the shadows with a sharpness that reminded me—beneath his music and soft sarcasm, he was still dangerous. A weapon wrapped in poetry.
He turned back to me a second later. "No one," he said simply, the edge of tension leaving his shoulders.
I nodded, forcing myself to settle deeper into the lounge chair. The cushion barely eased the heat still crawling across my skin. Every part of me was alive in the worst and best ways, and it was unbearable how close we’d been to something real—something reckless.
If not for that sound...
I swallowed hard and blurted, "Where do you think it came from?"
He shrugged, already heading for the little table beside his chair. "No clue."
His fingers brushed over a book—old, thick-spined—and I watched as he flipped it open and began scribbling furiously, as if something inside him had to be poured out or it might destroy him.