Her eyes brighten at the word escalation. "You taught me that word."
I exhale through my nose. "I taught you how to regulate, not how to manipulate."
She chews thoughtfully, then swallows. "I'm not dysregulated."
I stare at her.
"Look at me, Red. I'm calm as a cucumber. That was the goal, right?"
I shouldn't engage. I know that. But the part of me that's still shaking wants to argue. "The goal is safety."
"I was safe." She gestures vaguely around the room. "I'm safer now than I've been in weeks."
Her certainty slides under my skin. I keep my face neutral, but the argument I'd rehearsed too many times since meeting her loses its edge. There's a faint sense of rightness about her rationalizing us, no matter how unwelcome or undeniable. It's a piece clicking into place when it shouldn't.
I draw a slow breath through my nose, letting the moment stretch, letting her words sit.
This is a mistake.
No, it's not.
Part of me wants to let her keep talking, but every fear I have about what might happen if I do, rises.
I glance at the clock on the wall. It's later than I thought. She should be home, in her bed, resting.
My chest tightens as my mind jumps tracks. Adrian Ivanov's calculating, suspicious eyes should be enough to make me stop my improper behavior. If he knew where she was right now, I don't put it past him to actually kill me.
"Red, aren't you happy I feel safe with you?" she asks.
"You know it's not that simple," I remind her.
Her smile fades, just a fraction. "You make it more complicated than it needs to be."
"I'm not." I stand abruptly and move to the window, staring out at the city lights, needing another view than her naked self on my couch, pliant and defiant at the same time.
She slides behind me and wraps her arms around my waist. She murmurs, "Stop worrying. Love is love."
Love.
The hairs on my arms rise.
Tell her this isn't love.
I blurt out, "You're here because I failed to maintain boundaries. This has to end tonight."
"I didn't force you to break your boundary. You did it because you had to," she insists.
I deeply inhale, then exhale, trying to erase the uncontrollable desire racing through me, wanting to give in and take everything she claims she wants to give me. The words taste bitter. I admit, "No. You didn't force me."
Her phone explodes with a sudden wall of music, tearing through the room. The speaker crackles as the opening beat blares out, too loud, too sharp, vibrating against the surface it's lying on.
Every muscle in my body goes tight. I spin, ordering, too fast, "Don't answer that."
She watches me, her curiosity sparking. "You scared, Dr. Mercer?"
I nod. "Yes."
Her eyes widen, breath catching as her brows lift. For a split second, she freezes. Her mouth parts and hands still, like the moment has knocked her off-balance before she can recover.
