She cursed under her breath. Of course.
Of course, she had to run into him now.
“I was just—” she started, but Dylan wasn’t buying it.
“Leaving?” His eyes locked onto hers, sharp, searching. “Without saying anything?”
Lena exhaled, torn between pride and something that felt a lot like longing.
“It was just supposed to be a one-time thing, right?”
Dylan was silent for a beat, then let out a sharp breath, running a hand through his hair.
“Yeah,” he admitted, voice rough.
“That’s what I thought, too.” He hesitated, then took a step closer. “Until I realized I didn’t want it to end.”
Lena’s pulse stumbled. “What?”
“Last night,” he said, his voice softer now, steady, “I watched you walk away, and all I could think about was how much I didn’t want you to go.”
Her heart thudded against her ribs.
“Dylan—”
“I don’t care about Maya,” he cut in, his tone firm, certain.
“I don’t care about anyone else. I care about you.”
Lena wanted to believe him.
But doubt—fear—clawed at her. “What if this is just—”
“It’s not,” Dylan interrupted, seeing right through her hesitation.
“You feel it, too.
Don’t you?”
She swallowed hard.
Yes.
Yes, she did.
So, for once, she stopped overthinking.
She stepped forward, reached up, and kissed him.
A kiss that was warm. Real. Nothing like pretending.
Dylan smiled against her lips.
“Does this mean you’ll stay?”
Lena laughed softly.
“Maybe. But only if you promise to stop getting us stuck in elevators.”
Dylan chuckled, his hand slipping easily around her waist.
“No guarantees.”
And with that, Lena finally let herself fall.
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