She scoffs, but she doesn’t move away. “God, you’re insufferable.”
“And yet,” I say again, because she’s making this too easy. “You haven’t told me to leave. Not once.”
Her mouth opens—probably to tell me exactly that—but her heel slips on the loose gravel.
“Shit—”
She stumbles forward, instinctively grabbing my arm. Her fingers curl into my coat. She steadies herself but doesn’t let go.
She. Doesn’t. Let. Go.
I react without thinking, my other hand coming to her waist, firm, anchoring her. She’s warm. Slightlyshaking. Real in a way that punches the air out of my lungs.
We freeze like that.
Oh lord. Her hand is still on my arm. My hand is still on her waist. Neither of us is moving. Even the damn breeze seems to hold its breath.
“Are you—” I start.
“I’m fine,” she says, too quickly. But she still doesn’t move her hand.
She looks up at me then. Really looks. Her gaze drifts—slow, unguarded—down to my mouth. The topic I’ve somehow spun into this uncontrollable moment.
Her eyes are almost dazed—fear flickers there. And something else. Something darker. Hungrier. And I know she’s probably looking in a mirror when she finally meets my eyes.
Fuck.
The world narrows to the space between us. The tension is thick, suffocating, vibrating under my skin. I should say something smart. Something safe.
I should step back. She should step back.
Instead, I tighten my hand at her waist.
That’s it. I’m done for.
She tilts her chin up just a fraction, eyes dropping again to my lips like she’s already lost the argument with herself during the two breaths we’ve shared.
“Fuck me.” I close the distance.
The kiss hits like a collision—sharp and desperate and entirely out of control. Her gasp melts into mine as I pull her closer, impossibly close, my mouth claiming hers like I’ve been starving. Teeth graze. Tongues meet. It’s messy and consuming and nothing like the restraint I usually pretend to have.
She kisses me back just as hard.
For a heartbeat, there’s nothing but heat and breath and the way she fits against me.
Then reality crashes in. Forher.
She wrenches herself away, stumbling back a step, chest heaving. Her eyes are wild, shocked, fingers hovering over her lips like she can’t quite believe what we just did.
“I—” Her voice breaks. She shakes her head once, sharply, like she’s trying to reset herself.
“Iris, I—”
She bolts.
Disappearing back toward the building, leaving me standing there with my hand still curved in the shape of her waist and my mouth still burning.
I’m so screwed.
