DYLAN
I don't want to let her go.
The drive back from the restaurant was quiet, but not uncomfortable. Hermione had leaned her head against the window, the soft glow of the passing streetlights washing over her face like moonlight. I didn't speak. I just watched her.
She looked at peace. Or maybe she was pretending to be.
When I pull into her driveway, I kill the engine, but neither of us moves right away. The silence is heavier now, full of all the things I didn't say over dinner. Full of all the things I want to do now that I've tasted her on my tongue, felt her laugh against my chest, and memorized the way she looks when she's trying not to smile.
Her fingers are on the door handle when I finally speak.
"Stay."
She pauses. Look at me.
"Just a little longer," I add.
Her expression is unreadable for a beat, but then she gives me a soft smile and unbuckles her seatbelt. "We're already here."
"I'll walk you up." I don't ask.
I open my door and circle around to hers, opening it for her like I always do. She steps out, and we walk together to her front door in silence, her keys jangling softly in her hand.
She opens the door, steps inside, then turns to face me—half-in, half-out of her world.
"This is the part where you say goodnight," she murmurs, almost teasing.
I lean against the doorframe, arms crossed, trying not to reach for her.
"I don't want to say goodnight."
She raises a brow. "What do you want to say then?"
That she should let me stay. That I don't trust the night to keep her safe. That I need her under my arm, against my chest, where nothing bad ever happens. That her place feels too far away from mine.
Instead, I say, "I want to kiss you again."
She steps closer. "Then kiss me."
I don't waste a second. I cup her jaw and tilt her face up, my lips finding hers like I've been holding my breath since the last time. She sighs into the kiss, soft and sure, and I swear I feel my pulse steady for the first time all day.
Her hands rest on my chest, fingers curling into my coat like she doesn't want me to leave either.
When I pull back, we're both breathing harder than we should be.
"Goodnight, Dylan," she whispers.
I nod. "Call me if you need anything. If you hear something. If you can't sleep. If you just… miss me."
She bites back a grin. "You know I'm not calling you because I miss you, right?"
I lean in, brushing my lips against the shell of her ear. "You already do."
And with that, I force myself to step back and let her close the door.
I stand there for a moment after it clicks shut, staring at the wood like I can still see through it. Her scent clings to my jacket. Her voice echoes in my head.
I text Adrian:
"Security detail stays until I say otherwise. I want eyes on her place tonight. Discreet."
I should feel better. I don't.
Not until she's in my bed. Not until she's mine in every sense of the word.
And even then, I know I still won't stop wanting more.