"Come with me.” Romeo’s hand is still on my arm, and I look up at him.
"Where?"
"Anywhere. Nowhere. Just away from here."
He takes my hand, and I let him lead me away from the building, from the gala, away from everything. We walk in silence through the dark campus, past the library and the academic buildings, toward the edge of campus where there's a small garden area that's usually deserted at night.
I’ve been here before, to study or read when the weather is nice. It’s private and secluded, and right now the sounds of the gala are distant, muffled by the trees and distance. It’s a relief, like a barrier between me and all the things I don’t want to face right now.
Romeo stops and turns to face me. "Are you okay?"
"No. I'm not okay. I'm—" The words catch in my throat. "I'm so angry. And scared. And I don't know what to do."
"You don't have to do anything right now.” He stands there, hovering as I lean against the nearest thick tree, but unlike Thad, he doesn’t feel too close. I want his presence here; it makes me feel safer, not stifled.
But I can't breathe. I can't think. Everything is crashing down around me—the engagement, my father's expectations, the life I'm supposed to want but don't. I feel the scratch of the bark against my bare shoulder and the chill of the autumn night air prickling over my skin. I try to ground myself with that, to focus on it, but my heart is still racing, and I can’t focus.
“He scared me,” I whisper. “I?—”
"I know. I saw." Romeo touches my face gently, his hands on my cheeks, tilting my chin up so I have to look at him. "I'm so sorry. I should have?—"
"Don't. Don't apologize. This isn't your fault."
"Isn't it? If I hadn't asked you to dance, if I hadn't pushed?—"
“I wanted to dance with you.” It comes out as a whisper. I turn to face him, realizing too late how close we are, how my back is against the tree now, my body nearly caged in by his. I can smell the cedar of his cologne mixed with the damp leafy smell of the air, and I suck in a breath, my chest heaving as I try to slow the racing of my heart.
But now it’s pounding for a different reason altogether.
I can see what I’m feeling in Romeo’s face, too. There’s only a faint glow lighting the garden, from the lampposts a few yards away and the moon overhead. We’re mostly shrouded in darkness, but I swear I can see his eyes darken as he looks down at me, see his jaw tighten as one of his hands slides down until his thumb and forefinger are resting on my chin.
His other hand braces against the tree next to me, and for a long moment, neither of us moves. And then, slowly, so slowly, his thumb slides up to press against my lower lip.
Ifeelthe sigh he lets out, feel his body sway toward mine. My lips part, and I hear the low noise he makes, the tension in the air between us thickening.
“Savannah—”
The way he whispers my name sounds almost reverent, as if he could fall to his knees in front of me right now. The thought of what he could do there, things I only vaguely know about and can barely begin to imagine, sends a shudder of heat rippling down my spine.
I feel the moment he reacts to it, to this thing between us that I realize now was only ever going to end one way.
I’ve been running from it, but it’s too late to escape it now. Not when I want it so badly.
His hand leaves my mouth, replaced by his lips a second later. I arch into the kiss the moment his mouth touches mine, and Ifeelhim groan against my lips, feel the heat of his tongue as it sweeps against mine. His hips rock forward, pinning me to the tree, and I can feel how hard he is.
My hand goes to his chest, and I should be pushing him away, but instead my fingers curl into his shirt, bringing him closer. He groans again, his hand squeezing my hip through the silk of my dress as he rocks against me, the rigid length of his cock pressing against my thigh. His tongue sweeps through my mouth again, his fingers curling in my skirt as if to tug it up, and then he breaks the kiss.
“I should take you back. If I don’t?—”
There’s something wild in his eyes. He doesn’t want to take me back. What he wants is to stay here, with me, and I want that too.
I want him. I want him so fucking badly it hurts.
I barely know what this feeling is. I’ve never felt it before for anyone, but it feels instinctual, primal, like the most natural thing I could feel for him.
It’s also impossibly dangerous. We’re not that far from the gala, still. Thaddeus could come looking for me. He could find us here.
But I can’t bring myself to care.
