We've reached the clinic, and I fumble with the keys, too aware of him standing behind me, of the heat radiating from his body in the cool night.
"And what do you think?" His voice drops lower, rougher, sending shivers that have nothing to do with the cold racing down my spine.
I think you're dangerous in ways that should terrify me.
I think you make me want things I can't have, can't afford to want.
I think if you knew the truth about me, you'd be obligated to turn me in.
"I think you're trouble," I manage to say instead.
"Funny. I was thinking the same about you."
I finally get the door unlocked, but when I turn around, Gabriel's right there, close enough that I have to tilt my head back to meet his eyes. The streetlight behind him casts shadows across his face, making him look like something out of a dream or a very dangerous fantasy.
"Lucy." He steps closer, and my back hits the door. "You wreck my judgment. Every damn time I'm around you, every rule I've built my life on goes straight to hell."
"I'm not trying to."
"That's what makes it worse." His hand rises slowly, giving me time to pull away. I don't.
His fingers brush a strand of hair from my face, the touch whisper-soft but devastating.
"I keep telling myself you're too young, you're clearly running from something, I should stay professional..."
"But?"
"But then you look at me like that." His thumb traces my cheekbone, and I'm pretty sure I stop breathing. "Like you see past the badge to whoever's underneath. Like maybe I'm worth the risk."
I can't think. Can't breathe. Can only stare at his mouth, caught somewhere between terror and desperate want, between the urge to run and the need to surrender.
"Gabriel..."
He leans in, and I rise on my toes to meet him halfway—
My phone chirps.
I ignore it, focusing on the heat of his breath against my lips, the way his hand trembles slightly against my cheek.
We're so close I can see the gold flecks in his blue eyes, count the lines around them that speak of too many years carrying too much weight—
Another chirp. Then another.
Gabriel's jaw tightens, but he doesn't pull away. Not yet. "You should check that. Whoever it is seems... persistent."
My hands shake as I pull out my phone, angling it away from him, but he's still so close I can feel his breath on my neck as the messages light up the screen:
Dusty won't settle down. Think he misses his favorite nurse. - B
Can't blame him. - B
Sweet dreams, Sunshine. - B
I watch the exact moment Gabriel reads them over my shoulder. Something shutters behind his eyes, all that warm possibility replaced by cool distance. He steps back like I've burned him, and the March air rushes between us like a physical wall.
"Get some rest, Lucy." His voice is professionally neutral again, that careful sheriff tone that makes my chest ache. "Lock up behind you."
"Gabriel, wait—"
