Luna’s POV
The sheer weight of his confession makes my knees feel weak. He doesn't just want a fleeting moment with a faceless woman; he wants this. He wants me.
Seeing the realization finally dawn on my face, the hard edge in Ashton's expression softens, though the fire in his eyes doesn't fade. His thumbs resume their slow, sweeping tracks across my cheekbones, soothing the lines on my face.
‘Don't ever doubt where I stand,’ he murmurs, leaning down until his forehead rests gently against mine. ‘Last night was everything I've been wanting for weeks, but was too scared, or maybe stubborn too admit it. Honestly, I pretty much wanted you from the moment you spilled hot coffee on my shirt.’
I giggle at the reminder of our meeting, but the sound dies quickly in my throat as Ashton’s gaze
