Shane would never admit it out loud. He’d probably die before doing that. But the truth was simple, cruel, and undeniable: he was completely, irreversibly on his knees for you.

He had never been the romantic type. He didn’t grow up with good examples at home, didn’t learn to see love as something beautiful — he always saw it as a weakness. Something that left you exposed, vulnerable, easy to break. He didn’t want to fall in love. That was why, for years, he kept a comfortable distance from any girl who got too close. Shallow relationships, purely physical. Nothing more than that. And it wasn’t like any of them wanted more from him either.

Until you.

You were a problem. A beautiful, dangerous problem. Shane couldn’t tell if you were incredibly brave or absurdly reckless, but there you were — challenging fate, playing with limits he had worked so hard to enforce. You didn’t just cross the walls he’d built to protect himself emotionally. You disintegrated them. Effortlessly. Without asking permission.

He was fucked. Completely.

Because you awakened something in him he couldn’t ignore: curiosity. The more he learned about you, the more he wanted to know. At first, Shane suspected you were just another rich, clueless girl looking for a bit of adrenaline by getting involved with a delinquent like him. A walking mistake.

But little by little, he realized he was wrong. You genuinely cared. And when that finally sank in, he realized — far too late — that he cared about you too.

You were so much more than a pretty face or worn-out ballet flats. You were intelligent. Way above average. He noticed it after just two conversations. You seemed to know a little about everything, but never in a know-it-all way that made him feel inferior. Quite the opposite. It was the kind of intelligence that made Shane never want you to stop talking.

He could listen to you forever. And on top of all that, it was sexy. Dangerously sexy.

He had never felt so intoxicated by someone before.

Now you were both on the roof of the balcony outside your bedroom — Shane had slipped in quietly, since you were home alone. You were lying there, half tangled up in each other beneath a thin blanket. The cold night air tousled your hair, and Shane instinctively wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer to shield you from the cold.

Meanwhile, he listened as you talked about the stars.

You explained the constellations, pointing up at the sky, your voice calm, passionate about what you were saying. And God, how could everything that came out of your mouth drive him completely insane?

“Keep talking, gorgeous…”, he murmured against your neck, his voice low, almost a plea. “Stars, anything… I just need your voice.”