The street was quieter than when we’d arrived. Cooler too. We walked back the way we’d come, past the same storefronts and the same buildings.
We walked closer than we had before, however, and I told myself I’d loosened because of the wine, but I was telling a tale much like the boy living in the apartment to the left of mine.
The sidewalk narrowed where construction had taken over half of it, wooden barriers forcing everyone into a single file. He strode behind me, his hand resting on my lower back as someone passed, going in the opposite direction.
The touch lasted until we could walk side by side again, and he didn’t remove it right away.
I didn’t shrug him off.
We kept walking, and his hand dropped eventually. I missed the warmth of his palm through my jacket.
The wind picked up, cutting through my clothing, and I hunched my shoulders.
Tolrek eased himself into a position that blocked the wind.
We reached my building, and I turned to face him.
“I’ll make sure you’re safe inside,” he said, tilting his head toward the entrance.
The lobby door had been propped open, and a man was moving boxes inside. We went around him and headed for the elevator.
It pinged, and we stepped inside. We stood in the small space and didn’t look at each other. The mirrored wall showed us both, him taking up most of the area, me small beside him.
We reached the fourth floor and got out. The corridor stretched ahead, one bulb out at the far end. My door was second-to-last. We walked past the other apartments, the sounds of people’s lives filtering through thin walls.
We stopped in the dimmer section of the hall.
I turned to face him, the way you did at the end of an evening. “Thank you for dinner. I had a nice time.” All the normal things people said.
Neither of us spoke or moved.
“Tolrek—”
I turned my head at the same moment he leaned down. He must’ve been aiming for my cheek. A polite goodnight kiss that wouldn’t cross any lines.
My lips grazed the corner of his mouth.
Both of us froze.
His hand came up. Slowly, giving me time to move away. His fingers touched my jaw, tilting my chin up.
He groaned, the sound pulled from a place he may not have meant to let me see. It told me what this cost him, that he wasn’t in control of this any more than I was.
Then his mouth was on mine, and I stopped thinking.
One of his arms came up, bracing against the wall above my head. His other hand stayed on my jaw, his pinky resting against my pulse point. My heartbeat hammered against it, giving meaway. He had to feel it. Had to know exactly what this was doing to me.
I grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him closer even though closer wasn’t physically possible. I rose on my toes, my body deciding this was the right thing to do without consulting me.
He kissed me like he’d been thinking about it for longer than two weeks. Like he had finally given himself permission to act on whatever impulse drove him.
I kissed him back the same way.
His fingers moved along my throat in a small circle, and I heard myself make a small, undone sound that I didn’t want to take back.
He ended the kiss, but his forehead came down to rest on mine, both of us pulling in air like we’d been underwater too long.
“Haley.”
