ISLA
The Tower elevator was empty.
We stood side by side, his hand still in mine, watching the floors climb. The silence between us had that full, warm quality. The kind that built rather than sat.
The doors opened on his floor.
Neither of us moved immediately.
Then we turned to face each other in the elevator doorway, the corridor behind us, the outside faintly visible through the end window.
He reached up. Tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. Slower than this morning. Like he had more time tonight and intended to use every second of it.
The moment his fingertips grazed my skin, the air between us crackled.
It felt like the elevator was shrinking, the metal walls pressing in, then suddenly it felt like there wasn't enough space between us.
His thumb traced the sensitive shel
