We Can Run Away

“Dante…” she called, her voice muffled by his palm.

“Shh… someone will hear you,” he breathed just below her ear, his voice barely above a whisper, just as a group of women walked into the restroom, chatting loudly among themselves.

Hana held her breath, every muscle in her body tensed as her heart pounded in her chest. Neither of them moved. They stayed frozen in place until the voices faded and the door clicked shut behind the last woman. Only then did Dante lower his hand from her mouth.

She stared at him, wide-eyed and unblinking. Her heart was racing, her mind spinning.

What was he doing?

Dante turned slowly, locking the cubicle door behind them, and then shifted his gaze back to her. That same infuriating smile played on his lips. They were standing too close—closer than they should be—and she could feel his breath against her skin. Her heart wouldn’t stop hammering.

“What are you doing, Dante? You can’t—”

Her words died in her throat as his hand rose, brushing a few loose strands of her dark, wavy hair from her face and tucking them gently behind her ear. His fingers lingered, and Hana’s breath hitched, her body trembling at his touch.

She tried to push him away, her hands pressing against his chest, but he didn’t budge.

“Just stay still, Hana,” he said, his voice breaking as his gaze locked with hers.

Hana bit her lower lip tightly, tears burning at the corners of her eyes, but she blinked them back.

Did he have any idea how much she had missed him? How badly she had needed to hear his voice? How many times she had sat alone, waiting, wondering what she had done wrong? She had left voicemails, messages—everything short of showing up at his door—and he had ignored every single one.

And now here he was. Locking her in a cubicle, like he could just pick up where he left off.

Why was he doing this? He didn’t want her—if he did, he would’ve picked up the damn phone when she called. So what was he trying to do?

Hana’s eyes narrowed as a thought crossed her mind.

Was this about sex? Was he just toying with her one last time before the wedding?

At that thought, she pushed harder against his chest, her voice low but firm.

“Let me go. Now! I hate you.”

“I missed you,” his voice cracked, the words spilling out before she could even catch her breath. His gaze softened, and for a moment, she saw a flicker of the man she once knew.

“So much. I can barely hold it in.”

His hand moved down her back, stopping right at her waist. Against her will, Hana felt her body tense. Her skin burned; every nerve ending came alive with sensation. Her knees weakened beneath her. Her mouth parted slightly, but nothing came out.

Then he pulled her closer, pressing her body against his. She couldn’t breathe. His heart was pounding just as wildly as hers.

And the worst part?

He knew. He knew what this did to her.

God, she hated that he still had this effect. Even after everything, she still craved his touch. She hated that she loved him so much that she mistook that look in his eyes for yearning.

“You shouldn’t be doing this,” she whispered. “You can’t.”

She placed her palms on his chest again to push him away—but she couldn’t bring herself to. She just left them there, feeling the rhythm of his heart under her hands. Her lashes fluttered as she looked up at him.

She watched his eyes slide over her face, lingering on her lips. And without even realizing it, she leaned in. Her breath caught as their mouths nearly touched. He didn’t move. Neither did she.

It was ridiculous. She shouldn’t want this. She shouldn’t even be here.

But maybe—if she kissed him just once—maybe she could stop needing him. Maybe the taste of it would be enough to finally forget.

Hana inched her lips forward, her heart banging against her chest, her body trembling with the weight of it.

Dante gritted his teeth as he stared at the woman in front of him. He didn’t know what had come over him at the party. Seconds after she excused herself, he had followed her—driven by something he couldn’t explain.

His body moved without thinking, right up to the moment he pulled her into this cubicle—and that’s when he realized what he had done.

Now, her lips were barely inches from his.

He wanted to throw caution to the wind. Kiss her. Hold her. Feel her hands on him. Breathe her in until he drowned in her.

Don’t do it. This is wrong.

Said the rational voice in his head.

He shut his eyes, trying to control himself.

She’s getting married. She’s no longer yours.

Dante’s chest tightened at the thought. He let out a painful sigh as his eyes fluttered open.

Swallowing the knot in his throat, he forced a smile, and gently cupped her chin.

“Tell me you don’t want to marry him,” he murmured.

Hana blinked, locking her gaze with his. Her heart skipped.

“Tell me,” he whispered, “and I’ll do anything you want.” His eyes dropped to her lips. “We can run away if you want.”