I shrug. “Couldn’t stay away.”
“Danny—”
“No. You don’t get to push me away again. You don’t get to keep saying this is a mistake and then look at me like you’re dying to kiss me.”
“You followed me home.” His lips quirk up. Just a little bit. “Stalker.”
I step closer. “Yeah. I did. Because I’m done pretending this isn’t happening. I’m done playing by your rules when your rules are just bullshit excuses.”
“This is a bad idea,” he says, his eyes darting left and right,as if there are paparazzi ready to spring out from the well-manicured bushes at any second.
“Probably. But I’m tired of good ideas that make me feel like shit.”
He stares at me. “If I let you in,” he finally says, “everything changes.”
“Everything already changed. You kissed me, and you can’t take that back.”
“I can try to move past it.”
“Well, I can’t. I’ve tried for days and all I can think about is you. How you tasted. How you grabbed me like you’d been wanting to for weeks. How you looked at me right before you did it.”
He lets out a sigh and sweeps a hand through his hair, making it look even sexier.
“Tell me you don’t want this. Tell me you don’t think about it. Tell me I’m the only one who can’t stop.”
He doesn’t say anything. Just stands there, jaw tight, clearly at war with himself.
Then he turns to unlock the front door.
“Get inside,” he hisses. “Before someone sees you.”
I chuckle. “Yeah, all the neighbors who are secretly watching from their windows.”
He rolls his eyes at me and nods toward the open door. I follow him in. The house is exactly what I expected. It’s clean, organized, and everything is in its place. Complete control. So Noah.
He closes and locks the door before slowly turning to face me.
“What do you want from me, Danny?”
“The truth. Just once, tell me the truth.”
He leans back against the door. “The truth is I’m terrified. Of this. Of you. Of what happens if anyone finds out.”
“And?”
“And I can’t stop thinking about you either. Haven’t beenable to since you walked into my office looking like you wanted to punch me.”
“Ididwant to punch you.”
“I know. You probably still do, at least half the time.”
“Yeah, well. You make it kinda easy since you’re so infuriating.” I shrug.
“So are you.”
We’re too close now. Close enough that I can see his chest rising and falling and the battle waging behind his eyes.
“Tell me to leave,” I murmur, inching toward him. “Tell me you don’t want this and I’ll walk out.”
