She turns her head and looks at me over her shoulder, and fuck, the expression on her face...want and wariness tangled together.
"Don't," she whispers.But she still hasn't pulled away.
"Don't what?"
"Don't make this harder than it already is."
I should let go.Should step back.Should do the right thing for once in my fucking life.
Instead, I run my thumb across the inside of her wrist.Soft.Reverent.
She sucks in a breath.
"I'm not trying to make it harder," I say quietly."I'm just…I don't want to let go yet."
"Tank—"
"I know.I know you can't do this.I know I fucked it up.I know."My voice is rough, raw."But give me one more minute.Please."
She turns to face me fully now, and we're close.Too close.I can smell her; that citrus scent with something clean underneath.I can see the way her chest rises and falls with each breath.
"One minute," she says, but her voice has gone breathy.
I still haven't let go of her wrist.I can't seem to make myself.My thumb traces small circles there, and I watch her eyes darken, pupils blown wide.
"You're trouble," she says, echoing her words from that first night.
"Yeah."
"I should walk away right now."
"Probably."
"So why aren't I?"
"Same reason I can't let go, maybe."
She bites her bottom lip, and I track the movement, remembering the taste of her mouth.I remember everything.
"This is a bad idea," she whispers.
"Terrible idea," I agree.
But neither of us moves.
The air between us crackles, charged with the same electricity from that first night.Before I fucked it up.Before everything went sideways.
It's still there.Still burning.
"One minute's up," she says, but she doesn't pull away.
"Enya—"
"Don't."She closes her eyes."Don't say whatever you're about to say.Because I can feel myself wanting to believe it, and I can't.I can't let myself."
I tighten my grip on her wrist, still gentle, still giving her the option to leave, and step closer.Close enough that I can feel her breath on my face.
"What if I'm not asking you to believe anything?"I say."What if I'm just asking for right now?"
