Up close, I see everything.
The way her gaze stays dark and unfocused.
The way her chest rises too fast.
The way she presses into the wall like it’s grounding her.
I wait.
She doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t pull away.
I lower my face so my lips hover near hers. My gloved fingers glide along the side of her neck. Her pulse jumps violently beneath my touch.
I smile beneath the mask.
“Cat got your tongue?” I ask with a smirk.
She tilts her chin up. Defiant. Wanting.
My hand settles around her throat. Not squeezing. Just there.
Her breath catches again, sharp and unmistakable.
Her pupils are blown wide with desire. Her pink lips part slightly.
Her eyes drop to my lips before slowly trailing over the mask. Her tongue darts out, licking her bottom lip.
“You have a mask kink,” I say softly. “Don’t you, my little intruder?”
Her lips curve in a slow, dangerous smirk. “I do,” she whispers, “Only when it’s you.”
Something in my chest snaps into place.
I lean closer—close enough that my forehead nearly touches hers.
“Careful,” I murmur. “You’re playing with fire, Ivy.” My lips move to her ear. “Don’t you know you shouldn’t say things like that to your stalker?”
Her hands curl into the fabric of my hoodie.
She doesn’t answer.
She doesn’t need to.
I straighten just enough to look down at her again, myhand still warm at her throat, my thumb brushing her pulse once more.
“This is your grand gesture?” she asks, breathless.
I tilt my head. “No,” I say quietly. “This is me admitting you were right.”
Her smile deepens.
And I realize—too late—that I didn’t come here just to lure her back. I came here to let her see exactly what she’d awakened.
My hand slides into the pocket of the hoodie that used to be mine. I pull out her bright pink lipstick, holding it up between us.
She looks at it, then at me.
I grin, then open it. I slowly apply it to her lips, and she lets me.
