The air between us does not return to normal. It cannot. Not after what almost happened. Not after the few inches that nearly vanished between us, the breath we almost shared, the words he almost said with his mouth pressed to mine.
I stepped away, but the moment does not release me. It hangs there, suspended in the room like a held breath that refuses to fade.
Damian stands where he was, chest rising too slowly, eyes locked on me with a look I cannot decipher. It is not anger. It is not confusion. It is something far more dangerous, something that makes my pulse trip over itself.
My lungs strain for air, unsteady and shallow. I cannot calm them. My hands shake before I can hide them. Every part of me feels pulled toward him, even while every instinct tells me to retreat.
I swallow har
