I didn't move.
I stood there on the edge of something I couldn't come back from, close enough to feel his breath on my lips, and fought the single stupidest battle of my life—my body against my brain, and my brain was losing badly.
If he kissed me, it was over. I knew that. Every last shred of resistance I had would go with it.
But he pulled back first.
"Are you certain?" he murmured. His lips barely grazed mine when he said it. "That you want me to stop?"
No. Not even a little.
"You have a wife," I whispered. "And Aurora is my best friend."
A beat of silence.
"As you wish," he said.
His hand dropped from my throat. He stepped back, and the absence of him hit me like something physical—a sudden cold where there had been heat, my body registering the loss before I could talk myself
