His throat works. “Yeah.”
I walk down the hallway. My pulse still pounds where his breath touched my skin. I don’t look back until I reach the exit door.
He’s still there.
Still watching.
Still holding himself together by threads.
And the worst part—the truth I can’t outrun—is that I’m not afraid of that darkness in him.
I’m intrigued by it.
Even when I know I should be terrified.
Chapter 15
Talia
Myroomistooquiet.
Not the good kind of quiet—the rink-at-midnight quiet, where the hum of the ice plant fills the gaps and someone else is breathing ten feet away.
This is the other kind. Flat. Empty. The kind that makes my thoughts echo.
I sit on my bed, back against the wall, knees drawn up. The overhead light is off. My lamp is on low, throwing a small circle of yellow over the comforter and leaving the rest of the room in soft shadow. My dorm key sits on the nightstand, catching the light every time I glance at it—a tiny, metallic metronome keeping time with my pulse.
The scene loops in my head.
Dim hallway. Smell of coffee and stale air. Dad’s office door clicking shut. Declan filling the space like he always does, shoulders broad, hair still damp from the ice.
The extra cup of tea.
“You’re here.”
“I brought coffee.”
The way his eyes locked on mine like the rest of the building stopped existing.
And then—that moment.
Arms on either side of my head, caging me against the cinderblock. Not aggressive. Not careless. Justthere. His chest inches from mine. Breath warm on my cheek, threaded with coffee and soap and something that smells like cold air even inside.
The drag of his gaze down to my mouth.
My body leaning toward him before I could think. Before I could talk myself out of it. Before I could remember every reason this is a bad idea.
The barely-there brush of his nose against mine. A breath. A tilt. The world shrinking to one simple, terrifyingyes.
We were going to kiss.
We would have. I know it in my bones. If Adrian and Gio hadn’t burst through that locker room door with their bags and their laughter, his mouth would be on mine right now instead of just living in my head.
Clang.
The memory of the door hitting the wall snaps through me. The way everything broke apart.
“Whoa.”
