We continue down the hallway, and when I stop to show her the library, it happens again. I can feel the soft press of her chest against my back. She isn’t wearing a bra because of the low cut back of her dress, so the only layers between us are the thin material of my sweater and her dress. Eve presses a palm into my shoulder blade, pushing herself away and apologizing, and it is like she has branded me. I feel the burn of her fingers on my skin even after she pulls away.
“Here.” I step to the side and wave an arm to usher her ahead of me. If I feel her body pressed against mine again, I can’t guarantee how I’ll react.
She blushes but doesn’t argue and moves to lead the way. Immediately, I realize this is a mistake.
The dress is cut low and her thick brown hair is twisted over one shoul
