My smile softens as the noise fades into the background.
Because yeah—the last few days?
They’ve been good.
Better than good.
We’ve talked.
Actually talked.
Cleared some things up.
Started to untangle the mess we made of each other three years ago.
And the heat between us?
The pull?
That hasn’t gone anywhere.
If anything, it’s worse.
Stronger.
Like all the time apart just compressed it into something sharper.
More intense.
And I don’t know if we’re fixing things—or just walking right back into the fire.
My fingers curl lightly against my cup as my thoughts spiral.
The motel last night.
This afternoon in the cabin.
The way I keep losing my head so completely when we’re alone, it almost scares me.
“That’s not like you,” I mutter under my breath.
Except.
It is.
But only when it comes to him.
Benji’s always been the exception.
The one person who could knock every carefully built wall right down without even trying.
I swallow hard, my chest tightening.
And then there’s that.
The condom.
Or lack of one.
