“If you’re finding it difficult to balance,” he added, “just hold on to me.”
I stared at his arm. Then at the hand. Then back at his face.
No.
Absolutely not.
I looked away quickly. I didn’t want to touch him. Or rather, I did, and that was the problem. My body remembered his warmth too well from the times he’d held and carried me. The memory of his scent, the strength in his arms, the way his heartbeat had sounded near my cheek, these things clung to me like shadows. I wasn’t ready for more of that.
I gritted my teeth, determined to ride this unnatural machine out with some dignity.
WHAM.
The elevator gave a sudden, sharp jolt. My feet slipped forward, and my balance tilted back, and I let out a startled noise as I stumbled right into his chest.
His arms instinctively caught me, o
