Sinfully yours
“Fair.”
We stood there again, tension humming between us. Not attraction — not exactly. More like unfinished business. Old wounds that hadn’t fully scarred.
“You should go,” I said finally.
He nodded slowly. “Probably.”
But he didn’t move.
Instead, he leaned in just enough for his words to land quietly between us, hands trailing down my collar bone.
“Whatever you’re running from,” he murmured flirty, “I hope it’s worth it.”
I met his gaze, refusing to look away. “So do I.”