“Then talk,” she said, but her voice wavered.
I reached for the words, but all I could think about was how she smelled. I couldn’t tell if I wanted to pull her closer or shake her for staying so far away.
She looked down on me even though I towered over her. In the lowlight, her eyes looked darker. Bolder.
“If you think showing up in my room like this gives you some kind of advantage,” she said, “you’re wrong.”
“Is that what this feels like to you?” I asked, my voice still ragged A power play?”
Her gaze flicked down to my lips, then back up–fast. Like she hadn’t meant to look. Maybe she was as effected as I was.
“You’ve been shutting me out since you got back.”
She lifted her chin. “What else is there to say?”
“How about the part where I didn’t ask for Chloe to be there, or for that article, or for half the bullshit your family’s feeding the press?” I stepped closer. “Or the part where I didn’t defend you nearly enough, and I know it?“,
That pulled her up short. I watched her fingers twitch where they still clutched the towel.
“But that wasn’t what ruined any trust we started to build, was it?” I asked, my voice lower now. “It wasn’t Chloe. Or the article. It was me.”
Her jaw tightened, but she didn’t deny it. And I didn’t stop myself from reaching for her this time.
Slow and deliberate, I brushed her wrist with my fingers. Just that. Barely a touch. But it felt like setting fire to kindling- immediate and dangerous.
Her breathing hitched, but her body stayed still, letting me explore with the ghost of a touch.
“If I crossed a line,” I said, “say it. I’ll go.”
Her voice was quiet. “I don’t know how to trust you when it feels like you’re still deciding.”
I stepped closer. My hand slid down her wrist, fingers brushing the line of her forearm.
“I already chose you,” I said, rougher than I meant to. “You’re the one who keeps walking away.”
The towel trembled under her grip. My thumb traced the edge of her knuckle like it had a mind of its own.
“I walked away because I don’t know what we are,” she whispered. “Because I thought if I let myself want more that what we agreed to, I’d be the only one who did.”
I stared at her lips, close enough now to see the pulse fluttering in her throat. My body leaned in before I knew I was doing it.
“You think I don’t want more?” I whispered against her ear.
“You act like you don’t.”
“Then I’m doing a terrible job,” I said. “Because it’s torture, Emily Staying away. Even from the parts that scare the shit out of me.”
She swallowed. “So why haven’t you kissed me?”
It was a whisper. A challenge.
I could’ve kissed her right then. Could’ve pinned her to the wall and swallowed the words from her mouth. But if I did, I wouldn’t stop.
And I wasn’t sure either of us was ready for what came next.
1/2
I let my hand fall away, though it killed me to do it.
Because if I kiss you right now,” I said, “I won’t be able to pretend this is just a contract anymore.”
She blinked slowly. Her lips parted–but no sound came out.
We stared at each other, hearts beating like war drums. And then 1stepped back because I wanted her too much to screw it up with a moment I couldn’t take back.
I crossed the room and paused at the door. My hand rested on the frame. I didn’t look at her when I said it—but I meant every
word.
“I’m not walking away.”
A silence stretched between us, long and aching. I closed the door behind me.
But I left it unlocked.
22
