Matthew
I swallow hard, my mouth suddenly dry. "Sarah…"
I don't finish the thought. Her eyes are locked on mine. She looks so hopeful that it makes my heart squeeze.
"You know this is a bad idea," I say, but I don't move away.
"Most good things are," she whispers, her breath warm against my face.
I should say no. I should remind her of all the reasons this can't happen—Amanda, age difference, her father, my job. But out here on the water, those reasons feel distant, like they belong to another life.
"Just one more," I hear myself say.
She smiles, slowly closing the distance between us.
The kiss is gentle at first, tentative, as if she's asking permission. Then I feel her hand on my cheek, and something inside me surrenders.
I kiss her back, really kiss her this time. Not to prove a point or shut her up, but because I want to. Because the taste of her is intoxicating, and the small sigh she makes against my mouth is the most honest sound I've heard in years.
