Page 104 of Hard Pass

“We slept together,” I say. “You didn’t have to. I didn’t make you.”

“That’s not—”

“And you enjoyed it just as much as I did.”

A charged silence fills the room.

I step closer. “You don’t get to act like this is just me.” My voice is rough, trying to hold back my frustration. “Like I’m the only one who wants more of whatever this is.”

Her jaw tightens. “This has nothing to do with want.”

“I beg to differ, but I’ll play. Then what is this about?”

“Control,” she snaps.

That almost makes me smile. “Yeah,” I say softly. “How’s that working out for you?”

Her breath stutters. Her eyes drop for just a second to my mouth.

There it is. That crack. That moment she loses the fight with herself.

“Don’t,” she whispers, but she doesn’t move, doesn’t pull away and create space between us.

And that? That’s everything.

“You’re right,” I murmur, reaching up to cup her face and rub my thumb over her bottom lip. “We shouldn’t be doing this, but don’t stand there and lie to me about not wanting it.”

Her inhale is quick and it’s almost as if it lets her gain a fraction of that control she craves because she shoves me back—not hard but enough to make a point.

“God, you’re infuriating,” she breathes.

“Yeah?” I catch her wrist before she can step away, pulling her right back into me. “You’re not exactly easy either.”

Her chest hits mine. Our breaths mix together. And now there’s nothing left between us but the truth we’ve both been avoiding.

“You don’t get to look at me in that way and walk away like it didn’t matter,” I say.

Her expression flickers. She blinks. Her lips part as if to argue but nothing comes out.

And then my lips are on hers.

The kiss isn’t careful and it’s far from controlled. It’s what’s been building—every glance, every almost, every second of restraint—with nowhere else to go since the last time I tasted her.

Our tongues meet and bodies heat. She tastes like spearmint and seduction as her lips hesitate for a brief second, fighting against her stubborn reason, before surrendering to the kiss.

To me.

She makes that same sound again, soft and breaking and yeah, that’s all it takes.

That’s what I need.

Her bag slips from her shoulder, hitting the floor with a quiet thud that has nothing on my heartbeat. Her hands fist in my shirt.

Yes, Dublin. Hold on to me. That’s what I want too.

And suddenly it’s not about rules or careers or consequences, it’s just this.

Just her.