I should stop.
I should remember my plan.
Keep moving. Keep running. Don't attach yourself to anyone.
But I'm so tired of being alone.
Ross's mouth leaves mine, trailing down my jaw, and I gasp as his lips brush the sensitive skin just below my ear.
"You don’t have to be alone tonight," he murmurs.
My eyes sting again, and I hate it. I hate how close tears are, even now, even when desire is threading through me like a wire.
"Let’s go inside," he says softly. "Back to your room. I don’t expect anything. I can just hold you, if you want. Or even just guard the door. But let me make you feel safe and protected, so you can get a good night’s sleep.”
I nod, fingers still curled in his jacket. "Okay."
We walk back inside, and the clerk looks up, then looks away quickly.
Ross keeps one hand at my back as we cross the lobby and head down the hall. At my door, I fumble with the key, fingers still shaky from the cold—or maybe from his proximity.
Ross's hand closes over mine, steadying it. His fingers are warm against my skin, calloused and rough.
The key turns. The door opens.
I should say goodnight. Send him away. Get some sleep like a rational person.
Instead, I hear myself say, "Do you want to come in? Just for a minute?"
Ross hesitates, and I can see the war in his expression. The professional side battling the personal.
"Just to warm up," I add quickly. "It's freezing out there."
That tips the scale. He nods once. "Okay. For a minute."
He follows me inside, and suddenly the room feels smaller than it did before. More intimate. The lamp casts warm shadows, and the heater hums softly in the background.
I turn to face him, and we're standing closer than we should be. Close enough that I can see the rise and fall of his chest, the way his eyes have gone dark.
"Thank you," I say quietly. "For checking the parking lot. For making me feel safe."
"You don't have to thank me," he says, voice low.
"I want to."
The air between us is charged, electric. Neither of us moves.
Ross's jaw tightens. "Ashley..."
"Yes?"
He takes a half-step closer, and my breath catches. His hand lifts to my face, thumb brushing along my cheekbone the way it did outside.
But this time there's no cold air between us. No professional distance to maintain.
This time when his eyes drop to my mouth, there's nowhere to hide.
"I should go," he says, but he doesn't move.
