“Ray—”
“Just do it, Wynter.”
I rush to my room and slam the door behind me, twisting the lock with shaky fingers before leaning back against it.
My eyes fall closed as I try to steady my breathing.
That kiss . . .
It shouldn’t have affected me like that.
I press my head harder against the door, frustration bubbling up inside me. My body had reacted instantly—like it remembered him, like it didn’t care about everything that’s happened between us.
And that makes me angry.
I drag a hand through my hair, pushing away from the door and pacing the room.
“I am not weak,” I mutter under my breath.Not anymore.I won’t let him kiss me and think everything is fixed. I won’t let him touch me and undo all the progress I’ve made.
But the memory lingers anyway—his hands, the urgency, the way for a split second I almost . . .
I stop pacing, pressing my lips together.
“No,” I whisper, firmer this time. I won’t go backwards when I’m finally moving forwards.
A sharp knock makes me jump, my heart lurching into my throat. I freeze, holding my breath, staring at the door like it might give me away.
“Wynter,” Ray mutters from the other side.
My jaw tightens. “No, Ray,” I snap, louder this time. “Go to bed.”
There’s a pause. “I just—”
“You just need to sleep,” I cut in, not giving him the chance to finish. Because if he starts explaining, if he softens his voice the way he does . . .
I might open that door.
I hear him sigh heavily, the sound muffled but weighted. “I haven’t slept since Anika left,” he admits quietly. “Not properly.”
I close my eyes, pressing my palm flat against the door, hating that a part of me cares.
“You’re not coming in,” I say, forcing steel into my voice. “I’m not stupid, Ray.”
Silence stretches between us. “You can’t say all that shit,” I continue, my voice cracking despite my best efforts, “and then come knocking on my door like I’m just going to . . . what? Forget it?” I shake my head, even though he can’t see me. “Jump into bed with you?” I let out a hollow laugh. “No. I’m done with that.” I sigh. “And I’m done making the same mistakes with you.”
The words hang there, heavy and final. I stand there, listening. Holding my breath.
And then I finally hear him moving away, and I relax.
That wasn’t so hard . . .was it?
The next morning, the sound of banging wakes me and I sit up looking around in a daze.
It’s coming from somewhere inside the apartment. The kitchen?
I hesitate for a second before pushing back the covers and slipping out of bed, wrapping my dressing gown around me as I head for the door.
I open it quietly and follow the noise into the kitchen and stop in the doorway.
