“Even if none of that happens, I’ll screw it up,” I said. “I won’t find the right words. Or I’ll get cold feet and change my mind. So forget smooth.” I took a deep breath. “This is what it sounded like, that night in the tunnel.”

Gabriel frowned, these clearly not being the words he expected.

“The river lapping against that platform.” I nodded toward my phone, playing the wave effect. “It sounded like that, but it echoed, too. Everything echoed. And I was cold. Colder than I’ve ever been. I couldn’t stop shivering. My teeth wouldn’t stop chattering. And you were warm. So amazingly warm, and all I wanted was to get closer to you. When I got closer, I realized that was just an excuse to cuddle up against you and then, yes, to kiss you.”

I looked up at him. “I might not have been fully conscious, and I might have been slipping into memories of Gwynn, but I knew exactly who I was kissing.”

I stood there, heart pounding. I should kiss him. That was the proper way to end my declaration. But I couldn’t budge. And then I realized I shouldn’t. I had made my move. The next step was his.

Gabriel stood frozen to the spot, his eyes slightly wide, in that way I’d come to interpret as panic.

I’d made a mistake. Somehow I’d misinterpreted.

How the hell could I have misinterpreted?

No, I wasn’t falling back on that, would not blame myself. If he couldn’t make this next move, then he was never going to make it. However he might feel, he was never going to be able to open himself up, accept the risk. Nothing in his life had prepared him to do that.

I squeezed my eyes shut so he wouldn’t see my disappointment. No, my devastation. Tears welled behind my lids as I struggled to think of what I could blurt before running past him and—

His fingers touched my cheek and slowly moved down to my chin, tilting it up and…

I remembered the kiss in the river. I may have told myself it had gotten a little blurry, but that was bullshit. Even if I’d been certain it was just my subconscious conjuring Gabriel for me, I’d clung to that memory, pulled it out and replayed it and polished it so I could not possibly forget, because, real or not, I didn’t want to forget.

Even when Gabriel admitted it had been real, I’d been afraid to trust my memory. The kiss may have happened, but not as I remembered.