Rune's forehead dropped to my shoulder. His breath came in ragged bursts. My heart hammered against my ribs.
"We have to stop," he whispered.
"Yes."
"If someone finds us—"
"They can't."
Rune bit his lip. "It's not just my career. It's yours. It's—"
He lifted his head. Our faces were inches apart. His eyes were dark, pupils dilated.
"I don't want to stop," he said.
"Neither do I."
"But we have to."
He kissed me again, slower this time. When he pulled back, his hands were shaking.
"You need to leave," he said. "Before I ask you to stay."
I forced myself to step back, tearing the thread of our connection. He watched me with an expression I couldn't read.
"Tomorrow, we can't—this can't happen again. Not like this. Not where someone could—"
I stared into his eyes. "It's impossible."
"I'm not sorry that it happened."
"Neither am I."
"You should go."
I opened the door. Checked the corridor. It was empty. I looked back at him one last time.
He had disheveled hair and swollen lips, while he gazed intently at me.
"Yoon-jae—"
"Don't." His voice was gentle. "If you say something kind right now, I won't let you leave."
I left and stopped in an empty service corridor halfway to the loading bay. Leaning against the wall, I fought to steady my breath.
My shirt tail hung out of my jeans. My pulse still raced, and I could taste him on my lips.
I tucked my shirt in, straightened the collar, and smoothed the fabric, rebuilding my professional mask. By the time I found Kang coordinating final security checks near the transport vehicles, I'd composed myself.
"Everything clear?" he asked.
"Clear."
"The band is ready to move in ten minutes," he said. "You're done for the night."
"Confirmed."
I walked to the exit. Pushing through the loading bay door into Vancouver's night air, I knew with absolute certainty that everything had just changed.
