I can feel each individual finger through the thin fabric of my blouse, the same way I did upstairs. My pulse kicks up another notch, and I’m suddenly keenly aware of how small this space is. How close we’re standing. How his thumb is doing that thing again where it paints endless circles against my skin.
“I know.” His voice is rough. “I know.”
But he doesn’t let go.
The flashlight beam wavers slightly. I realize his hand is shaking.
“Hey,” I say softly. “It’s okay. We’re going to be fine.” Buildings have safety protocols. Someone will notice the elevator is stuck. They’ll send maintenance. “We’ll be out of here in—” I check my watch, but it’s too dark to see the face. “—probably twenty minutes. Thirty, tops.”
“I’m not worried about help,” he says in a choked voice. “I’m worried about
