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“I know.”

“Do you?” She shakes her head. “Because I walked out of that office feeling like I’d done something disgusting.”

Something twists deep in my chest. “You didn’t.”

“Then why did you look at me like that?”

I turn away, unable to look at her. She’s so beautiful. Even with her swollen eyes and red nose. How do I make this okay?

I turn back. “I knew what last night was,” I say. “I knew I shouldn’t have asked you to meet me. I knew I shouldn’t have touched you. I knew every reason it was wrong.”

“Then why did you?”

“Because I wanted you.”

Her breath catches.

“And because I have less control than I pretend to.”

“Nathaniel…”

“For the record,” I say, voice lower now, “I know we shouldn’t have fucked.”

“Good.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

“Then say it.”

She narrows her eyes. “We shouldn’t have fucked.”

The air turns hot.

Not warm.

Hot.

I should leave.

Hazel is down the hall. Staff are awake. Anyone could knock. Anyone could hear.

“So why are you here?” she asks.

Because I can’t stay away.

Because I know you might become a weakness.

Because when I saw you crying on that camera, something in me broke.

“I came to make sure you were safe.”

Her laugh is small and broken. “Safe from what? You?”

Yes. From me. From everything. From the whole world that could take her from me in an instant with one fucking twist of fate.

I advance toward her, grab her wrist.