“Don’t move. Don’t make a sound.” His voice was tight. Worried in a way that made my chest clench.
I held my breath.
Alex did too. I could feel it—his chest rising against mine, holding, not releasing. Could feel his heart racing through the layers of clothing between us, fast and hard and perfectly in sync with my own.
The flashlight beam swept closer to our hiding spot, painting thin lines of light through the crack in the door.
My pulse hammered in my ears, blood rushing so loud I could barely hear anything else. Adrenaline screaming at me to run, to fight, to do something other than stand here frozen.
I couldn’t do anything.
Just stand here. Pressed against Alex in the dark. Trying not to breathe. Trying not to move. Trying not to think about how every inch of him was touching me, how I could feel the tension coiled in his muscles, how his breath was warm against my neck.
The beam stopped on the terminal screen.
The command prompt was still running, progress bar crawling forward with damning visibility.
Oh god.
We were done… this was it.
The security guard moved closer, his shadow falling across the monitors like a death sentence. He was right there. Right in front of the evidence that would end both our futures.
My whole world, ending right here in a storage closet at Kingswell, pressed against the one person I couldn’t stop thinking about no matter how hard I tried.
The guard reached for the mouse. If he moved it he would see the script running.
Then his radio crackled.
“Unit Three, we’ve got a situation at the north entrance. Possible break-in.”
He paused. Hand hovering over the mouse for one agonizing second.
“Copy. On my way.”
The footsteps retreated—fast now, urgent, boots pounding against concrete as he headed for the door.
The door opened. Closed.
Gone.
I exhaled, a shaky breath that did nothing to slow my racing heart or ease the tension still vibrating through every muscle.
Alex didn’t move.
Neither did I.
We were still pressed together in the dark, too close, way too close. The danger had passed but neither of us stepped back. Neither of us tried to put distance between us, and I couldn’t tell if it was because the space was too small or because neither of us wanted to.
“Liam.” Noah’s voice in my ear, distant and tinny. “What’s happening? Talk to me. Is he gone? Are you clear?”
I couldn’t answer.
Couldn’t form words.
Because Alex was looking at me.
His eyes had adjusted to the dark enough that I could see them now—wide, breathing hard, pupils blown from adrenaline. But something else underneath all that fear and relief. Something I recognized because I felt it too, burning through me like I’d touched a live wire.
