“Maybe because you’re impossible to ignore,” I snapped, the words slipping free before I could catch them.
A heavy, breathless quiet filled the space between us in the aftermath. His gaze dropped to my mouth, the movement quick but unmistakable. It sent a violent rush of heat through me that pooled low in my stomach and stole the air from my lungs.
We stood there, barely a few feet apart, both breathing too fast and, if I was being honest, probably both looking like we were clinging to the flimsiest thread of self-control either of us had left. At least, that was how I felt.
“You have a boyfriend,” he said, his voice rougher now.
“You have a girlfriend.”
The hallway suddenly felt smaller and tighter, like the walls were inching inward with every heartbeat. Finally, I shook my head at him, but when I spoke, it came out as more of a whispered plea than as a statement. “And we hate each other.”
His gaze locked onto mine again, the intensity in it flaring so bright, it almost burned. “Yeah. Of course. We hate each other.”
The lie hung between us for a moment, fragile and transparent. Because whatever the hell was going on between us these days, it sure as hell wasn’t hate anymore. And it shattered the second he moved.
One step was all it took. Just one deliberate step that erased the space between our doorways and dragged every tangled emotion into the spotlight with it. I barely registered the moment his hand curled around my wrist and he pulled me to him.
Then his mouth was on mine and my world didn’t just tilt—it exploded. The kiss was like a collision we’d been hurtling toward for weeks. His lips were hot and demanding, rough with urgency, like he was starving and furious about it.
He backed me into my apartment and pushed me up against the door, the force of his kisses melting my brain as he fittedhimself against me, one hand bracing beside my head and the other sliding to my waist.
I gasped into his mouth and he swallowed the sound, deepening the kiss with a groan that vibrated straight through my chest. Every argument we’d ever had, every clipped word, and every sharp glance crashed together, bursting into delirium.
It was chaos, like fire licking through dry timber and laying waste to everything in its path. My hands curled into his shirt of their own accord, yanking him even closer. His body fit against mine like he’d slotted into a space that had been carved specifically for him. The weight of him finally stepping into it was solid, warm, and impossibly right.
It unraveled me how strangely familiar it felt. Like I’d known him in a previous life, memorized every inch of him, and was intimately familiar with the shape of his mouth. He tilted his head, adjusting instinctively, as if he already knew exactly how to meet me.
His hand tightened at my waist, his fingers splaying across my back as he angled me closer. The movement sent a sharp rush of heat spiraling through me.
This felt like insanity and inevitability all wrapped into one. His breath washed over my lips when he shifted to press me harder into the door, a low, wrecked sound escaping him that splintered something fragile in my chest.
My fingers slid into his hair, gripping hard and holding him there, because stopping felt impossible. But then reality cracked through the haze.
Boyfriend. Girlfriend. Promises. Years of loyalty. History.
In that moment, the devastating truth dawned on me. Neither of us was free to be devouring each other like this. Acting on that knowledge even though my heart and body rebelled against the thought, I flattened my palms against his chest and he stilled instantly.
We broke away from each other at the same time, like we’d both reached the edge of the same cliff and recognized the drop in the same heartbeat. I gave him a light shove and he stepped back just as abruptly, his breathing ragged and his eyes wide, dark and furious, but probably not at me.
For a minute that might’ve been an eternity, we just stared at each other, stunned and wanting, the air between us still crackling with everything we hadn’t burned out of our systems yet. He dragged a hand through his hair, scoffing as he shook his head.
“How is it possible that you got this deep under my skin?” he asked hoarsely, not even looking directly at me anymore.
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. There was no easy answer to that question. Anything I said right now would only make things worse.
His jaw tightened, that familiar wall slamming back into place behind his eyes piece by rigid piece. He stepped backward toward the hall, putting distance between us like it physically hurt to stay where he was.
His breath was still coming in choppy, uneven gulps as he reached for the door and yanked it open. Light filtered in, cutting sharp lines across his face to catch the turmoil in his expression, but then he was gone, the door slamming behind him and the echo of his footsteps already fading down the corridor.
My legs gave out before I could stop them. I slid down the inside of the door, my back pressed against the steel he’d pinned me to seconds ago. My lungs were still refusing to drag in steady breaths of air. My lips were still tingling and my entire body still hummed like a live wire.
I fumbled for my phone with trembling hands, the screen lighting my lap in a pale glow. I stared down at the notifications I’d been ignoring.
“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath. This was a disaster, and kissing Nate had only made it a million times worse.
CHAPTER 21
NATE
