She studies me, eyes narrowing. “This is supposed to be forbothof us.”
“I know,” I murmur, pressing her hand over my heart, hoping she can feel the storm raging beneath the surface.
“Then why won’t you let me touch you?” Her eyes lift to mine, soft and pleading. “I want to make you feel good. Let me make you feel good.”
I lean in, dragging my mouth gently over hers. “Not like this.”
Disappointment and hurt flicker across her face, but she nods, swallowing it down.
My thumb brushes over her bottom lip, unable to fight the need to touch her.
When her eyes flick up to mine again, I’m a goner, not thinking twice as I press my mouth to hers.
This kiss is slower, sweeter, devastating. I’m lost in the taste of her. Trying everything I can to pretend we’re not in a bar bathroom. Pretend this isn’t a secret that could derail everything I’ve worked for. Pretend we’re just two people, caught up in the moment.
I pull away first, despite every atom of my being craving more. Craving her. WantingeverythingI can’t have.
We linger longer than we should. Someone’s probably noticed we’ve disappeared, but I’m not in any rush to break this moment, so we take our time. Adjusting our clothes, stealing kisses, clinging to the final remaining pieces we’ve been granted.
She moves toward the door but I grab her arm, pulling her into me and resting my forehead against hers. I breathe her in, knowing this feeling ends the second we walk back out there.
She laughs quietly, breathless. I don’t know why—nerves, release, the absurdity of what we just did—but it makes me laugh too.
I wish circumstances were different. I wish we could forget the rules, forget the risk, forget that she is leaving.
I wish we could justbe.
Her and me—floating in our little hidden pocket of the universe.
But wishes don’t always come true.
The reality slams back into me, the blaring music outside these walls a brutal reminder of what this is. All itcanbe.
She stares down at our intertwined hands, squeezing once before taking a deep breath before finally letting go and reaching for the doorknob.
I follow right behind her as she slips out into the hallway. Probably not the best decision when we are supposed to beunder the radar, but sneaking is the last thing on my mind right now.
Sadie stops abruptly right outside the door, completely frozen. I almost collide with her, my hand immediately finding her hip, reaching for her out of instinct.
“Whoa, what’s wrong?” I murmur into her hair.
But then I see him.
Lane.
He’s leaning against the wall, arms crossed. His gaze rakes over her, then to me, then back again—piecing together every fucking detail. Her flushed cheeks. My hand on her waist. The fact that we just walked out of the same bathroom together.
His jaw shifts back and forth. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
The high shatters in an instant.
Sadie stiffens and I step in front of her without thinking, blocking her from his view.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. Back off.” My voice is low and controlled, even though I feel anything but.
He laughs once but it comes out like a scoff, short and bitter.
“Unbelievable,” he mutters, shaking his head. “After all the shit you gave me? And now you’re—what? Fucking her in a dirty bathroom?”
