“The whole point of the fortnight is for you to become acquainted with them.” She reached down and placed her hand over his, then she peeled his fingers away and clasped his hand in hers.
“Come. You need to return to your room and sleep this off. Everything will be clearer in the morning.”
Gray let her walk far enough away that he stretched his arm out to keep hold of her. He didn’t want to move, didn’t want to go back to his room. Not unless she came too.
“You can’t stay here,” she said in the soft, sympathetic tone she’d used with him sometimes when they were younger. Somehow, she wasn’t angry at him, though she had every right to be.
Finally, he summoned the will rise to his feet. The room spun for a moment, and he stilled.
Evie seemed to sense it and drew near. She lifted his arm and slid in underneath. Tucking herself against his side, she wrapped an arm around his waist and urged him forward.
Her nearness was a comfort but also a torment. Soon, she’d have him out of her room, and some part of him wondered if she’d ever forgive him for being a drunken fool and risking her reputation tonight.
“I’m sorry,” he said, and he meant the words with his whole being.
“I know.” She glanced up at him, and they were so close that Gray noticed the flecks of gold in her eyes. “This isn’t like you at all.”
“You know me well.”
“I used to.”
At the door, Evie propped him against the wall. She looked up at him with real concern in her gaze.
“You can make it back to your room alright?”
“Yes, of course.” He felt more exhausted than drunk now. In fact, he felt an odd sense of clarity.
“Please be careful.” She reached up and smoothed her fingers lightly across his forehead. “I hope this won’t trouble you in the morning.”
“My own fault.”
“True, but I can still be worried.”
Suddenly, Gray felt panicked. This might be the last moment they would have to speak privately for the entire fortnight. There was so much he wished to say.
Instead, he traced the curve of her cheek with his fingertip, then swept the pad of his thumb lightly across her lips.
“Gray,” she murmured.
And that did it. That severed every last bit of self-control left in him.
He dipped his head and kissed her softly. Just a too-brief whisper of his lips against hers. He wanted more. God, how he wanted more. But he knew he was already pushing things much too far.
Evie stunned him by wrapping her hand around his nape, pulling him closer, and kissing him again. A hungry, heated, desperate kind of kiss that made him breathless.
He wrapped his arms around her, stroked a hand down her back, then shaped his palm over the swell of her hip. And he kissed her, tasting her deeply, reveling in the way her hands clutched at him and the little moan of pleasure she let out when he swirled his tongue against hers.
Having Evie in his arms was revelation, a reckoning, and his knees nearly buckled with the power of how much he wanted her. How deeply he’d ached to be this close to her.
She left him with no defenses, allowed him no pretense. And, with her, he didn’t wish for either.
Her hands were in his hair when she finally pulled back.
He tensed, fearing he’d let her see too much or had gone too far. But her gaze reflected only tenderness and a desire as profound as his own.
She lifted onto her toes to wrap her arms around his neck. He nuzzled her cheek, pressed an open-mouthed kiss against the tantalizing spot below her ear and felt her body jolt against him.
A moment later, she lowered her hands to his chest and stared up at him.
