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When I asked for help…
This is not what I meant.
Jase is still braced over me.
Close.
Too close.
Every inch of him solid, steady, controlled.
And I—
Am not.
My hands are still gripping his shirt.
I don’t remember deciding to do that.
I don’t remember wanting to.
But I don’t let go either.
Because that would require thinking.
And thinking right now is a bad idea.
A very bad idea.
His breath is warm against my temple.
Mine is—
Not steady.
Not even close.
“…this is a test,” I whisper under my breath.
“What was that?” he murmurs.
“Nothing.”
“Doesn’t sound like nothing.”
I close my eyes for a second.
Just one.
Big mistake.
Because all I can see—
Is Prague.
The way he looked at me then.
The way he touched me.
