Another step. The space between us shrinks. My pulse jumps.
“Don’t act like you didn’t want it, too.”
I stop breathing.
Because he’s right.
And I hate that he’s right.
My heartbeat fills the quiet, steady and loud enough that I know he can hear it, too. I can’t look away from him, and I don’t know if it’s defiance or something much worse.
Everything in me feels pulled tight. My body saysstep back, but my heart saysdon’t.
“That’s not the point,” I say, quieter now. “Wanting something doesn’t mean it’s not a mistake.”
His eyes flicker enough to set off the part of me that still reads him too easily.
“Then maybe we should stop making the same one.”
It’s not what he says. It’s how calm he sounds saying it.
Something in me breaks. Not loud—just a small, quiet snap that leaves me too aware of every inch between us.
I move first.
Maybe to prove him wrong. Maybe because I’m tired of pretending I can.
My fists curl at my sides, nails pressing into my palms. I lift my chin and step into his space. “Then stop looking at me like that.”
“How?” His voice is lower now, rougher.
“You know how.”
His eyes drop to my mouth and stay there. I feel the air shift, the space between us shrinking until every breath feels borrowed.
“Tessa,” he warns, voice tight. “Don’t.”
But I’m already too close.
And he’s already too far gone.
His hand finds my waist, firm and unrelenting. My back hits the wall, and the sound is softer than the rush in my chest. Then his mouth is on mine.
The kiss isn’t gentle. It’s everything we’ve tried not to say, shoved into motion. My hands go to his shoulders, fingers digging in. His grip tightens at my hips, pulling me closer until I stop thinking and start feeling. He kisses me like he’s mad at himself for wanting to.
When we break for air, we stay close.
“This is stupid,” I whisper, but I don’t move.
“Completely,” he mutters, his nose brushing mine.
“You don’t even like me.”
“Doesn’t mean I don’t want you.”
The sound that leaves me is small and humiliating. He hears it, and growls, catching my mouth again, but rougher this time.
I fist his shirt, feeling the steady pulse under his skin. He lifts me easily, his hands sliding to my thighs. I wrap my legs around him before I can think about it.
