I don’t. I keep walking.
Then his hand lands on my shoulder.
I spin around so fast I stumble back.
“Don’t touch me.”
His hands fly up.
“Aight, I got you. I won’t.
“I’m sorry.
“That’s on me.”
As soon as our eyes lock, I exhale.
“I don’t do people touchin’ me without my permission.”
His nod is immediate.
“Good. That’s how it should be.”
I turn for the door again.
Andrew moves quick, smooth, cutting me off.
He’s right in front of me.
This time, he doesn’t touch me.
But he does worse.
He looks me in the fucking eyes.
And holds my gaze.
“Aight. Okay. I get it. It looks bad.”
He yanks off his glasses
and wipes the nerves off his face.
“Fuck,this looks bad.
“I know it does.
“Jesus—what the hell am I doin’?”
He pinches his nose, eyes shut tight.
A stunned, dry laugh punches out.
“I just—I’m all over the place.
“I’m makin’ this worse, ain’t I?
“This is a mess.”
