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I wouldn’t turn, but I feel his hand on my elbow.
Faster than I would like, I spin. “What?” I snap.
“Do not walk away from me,” Elio rumbles.
I fold my arms. “Or what?”
You’re a monster.
The words I threw at him earlier hang between us. On my side, it’s a dare. I arch an eyebrow, daring him to do it. Hurt me. Grab me.
Prove me right.
Elio is fuming. His jaw works, his throat moves as he swallows something that looks like anger.
But he didn’t like that I called him a monster.
And he’s keeping that top of mind as he stares at me right now.
“Or what, Elio?” I repeat. I shift, tucking my arms closer together. The movement makes the thin t-shirt that I’ve been wearing stretch over my chest.
Something familiar spikes in Elio’s eyes.
Heat.
The way my body responds is instant.
My breathing becomes shallow, my skin hot, and there’s a shiver of arousal that runs over my body, arcing up my spine like an electric current. My eyes drift down to Elio’s lips, then quickly dart back up when I hear him make a deep note in his throat.
I want him to kiss me.
The thought absolutely terrifies me. I don’t know what it is about Elio that makes me so weak, but I know one thing.
I can’t let him affect me like this.
I have to get out of his orbit.
I hiss out a breath and I back up until I hit the wall of the hallway behind me. Elio prowls forward, his eyes never leaving mine.
When the wall appears behind me, Elio braces one palm flat next to my head and leans forward.
Jesus.
He still smells good.
This close, Elio is overwhelming. There’s just somuchof him. Broad shoulders, dark stubble on his cheeks. His perfect kissable lips. The way his hair, which is a little disheveled from the travel, falls into his eyes.
The smell of him. Bay and cedar.
It’s all too much. I feel like my senses are drowning, underwater in a sea of Elio.
I need to get away from him.
I shut my eyes. “Back up,” I whisper.
My voice shakes, and I’m so mad at myself for it.
But the hand beside my head disappears, and I can finally breathe again.
