I laugh, hoarse, into the wood. “Fair is fair. You made a mess of me.”
He grips my chin and turns my head until I have to meet his eyes. They’re bloodshot, unblinking. “Good” is all he says.
Then he kisses me—quick, brutal, like punctuation.
When he finally lets me go, papers crunch under my bare feet as I slide off the desk. The robe is crumpled somewhere on the floor, but I can’t see where.
“Leave it,” he says when he catches me looking, catching my wrist. “Stay. Here. Like this.”
I hesitate, then I nod. “Alright,” I whisper. “I’ll stay.”
The tender bumps the dock and I grab the rail, legs still loose from too much sun and not enough blood in my brain. Stefan climbs out first and offers a hand. I ignore him and hop off myself. My knees wobble and nearly give out anyway. The costs o
