The moment she lets go, I can feel it. The way she sighs against my mouth, the way she tilts her chin just a fraction, leaning into me.
She likes this.
She likes me.
The realization sends something electric through my veins, making my grip tighten and my entire body ache. I could kiss her forever. But I don’t get the chance. A distant noise; someone moving too close, voices filtering into the hallway. The guys.
I rip myself away before they find me with her, before they can tear this moment apart. My chest heaves as I take a step back. She mirrors everything in me—swollen lips, wide eyes, pupils blown. Beautiful.
My fingers twitch, and before I can stop myself, I lift my camera, snapping a picture. This moment. This is proof.
She gasps, blinking up at me. “Finn?—”
I love my name on her lips, every syllable a prayer, a promise. If only I had more time.
I tuck the camera away, grinning at her, knowing she won’t forget this. Neither will I.
“I’ll see you soon, sweetheart.”
CHAPTER 17
Carson
I findher sagged against the wall, head tilted back, chest rising and falling as she catches her breath.
She looks ravaged.
The smudged lipstick, the dazed look in her eyes—someone kissed her.
Not someone. Finn.
I catch it before she can say a word, the lightest of scents clinging to her. It’s all over her skin, her clothes. And worse, her own perfume is thick with something sweet. Something telling.
Desire.
My stomach tightens, a growl creeping up my throat before I force it back down. Not the time. Not the fucking time.
“Willow,” I say, all business. Even if my blood is anything but calm.
She blinks up at me, still hazy, as though she’s dragging herself back into the moment. Then she straightens, rolling her shoulders, that defiant fire snapping back into place.
She knows what I smell.
She knows what I see.
And she doesn’t fucking care.
“I’m fine,” she says, attempting to brush past me, pretending she didn’t just disappear into the shadows with her fucking stalker.
I grab her wrist, not rough, but firm. I don’t let her slip away. “What the hell happened?”
She jerks her hand back. “What does it look like?”
My jaw ticks. She’s baiting me.
“Don’t do that.” I keep my voice low, controlled. Because I’m seconds from losing it, and I don’t lose it. “Finn took you off the dance floor. That wasn’t your choice.”
She scoffs, arms crossing over her chest. “And what, you think I’m some helpless little thing? That I need you to swoop in and save me?”
