the chandeliers inside the ballroom were too bright, the champagne too sweet, and the air too thick with the scent of expensive perfume and desperation. kayce tugged at the collar of his suit jacket, feeling the fabric chafe against the brand on his chest. he felt like a wild animal caught in a snare, pacing the perimeter of the room until he saw her.

{{user}} stood near the dessert table, looking exactly how he felt, out of place and ready to bolt. her dress was a deep forest green that made her skin glow, and for a second, the breath left his lungs. he didn’t think, he just moved, weaving through the crowd of bozeman’s elite until he reached her side.

"you still hate these things," {{user}} said without looking at him, her voice a low, familiar hum that cut through the noise of the string quartet.

kayce stepped up beside her, the cool mountain air hitting his face. the scent of her. something warm, like vanilla and rain hit him harder than a punch to the gut. it was a ghost of a memory that felt suddenly, violently alive.

"i hate being anywhere i have to pretend," he admitted, his voice rough. he looked out at the dark silhouette of the mountains, the only thing in this town that made sense to him.

{{user}} turned her head, her eyes searching his face. "and what are you pretending right now?"

the tension that had been building for months, years maybe, finally snapped. kayce turned fully toward her, closing the gap until he could feel the heat radiating off her. he was tall enough that she had to tilt her head back, and the physical proximity made his pulse hammer against his ribs.

he reached out, his calloused thumb hovering just an inch from the softness of her cheek. he wanted to touch her, to see if she still felt like home.

"i'm pretending i don't want to put you on my horse and ride until we hit the state line," he rasped, his eyes dropping to her lips.