What the fuck was that?
Her shoulder against my chest. That little sound she made. The way she looked at my mouth.
I need to walk this off. I need to think about something else. I needto—
I make it to the common room and Kyron is on the couch, phone in hand, and he looks up when I come in.
His eyebrows rise.
“You okay there?”
“Fine,” I say. Too fast.
“You look like you just ran a marathon.”
“I didn’t.”
“Your face is red.”
“It’s not.”
“It is.” He sets the phone down. Those blue eyes are way too sharp. “What happened?”
“Nothing.”
“Rane.”
“I was showing her the phone.”
“And?”
I run a hand through my hair. Pace toward the window. Turn back.
“She leaned into me.”
Kyron goes very still.
“And she made this—this sound. And then she looked at my mouth, Kyron. She looked at my mouth.”
Silence.
“So what did you do?” he asks.
“I left.”
“You left.”
“I excused myself.”
“Smoothly?”
I think about tripping over my own feet. About sayingthere’s a thinglike an absolute idiot.
“Not exactly.”
Kyron’s mouth twitches. Then he’s laughing—not loud, but real—and I want to be annoyed but I can’t because he’s right. I’m a disaster.
“It’s not funny,” I say, but I’m almost smiling now too.
