Sinful Affairs
Every glance between us carries the weight of what’s about to happen, the line we’re about to cross.
When we’re both dressed, Promise walks over to me. He’s back in his suit, hair still damp, looking every inch the serious financial analyst except for his eyes, dark and hungry and fixed on me.
“Last chance,” he says quietly. “We walk out together, and there’s no taking this back.”
I reach out and lace my fingers through his. “Good.”
His breath catches, and then he’s smiling the first real smile I’ve seen from him in months. It transforms his face, makes him look younger, less guarded.