The night air was cool, but Georgia's skin burned.
She stood in front of Jared's door again.
No apron. No linens. No excuse.
Just herself.
Her bare feet were quiet against the stone floor, her hand trembling as she reached for the handle. She didn't knock this time. She just... walked in.
Jared was shirtless, fresh from the training yard, a towel around his neck and sweat still glistening on his chest. His eyes snapped to her the second the door creaked.
"Georgia?" His voice was low. Rough. Cautious.
She didn't speak.
She couldn't.
She stepped forward. One, two, three small steps. Then stopped. Her breath hitched in her throat. Her fingers curled at her sides.
He dropped the towel, muscles flexing as he moved closer. "Say something."
She shook her head.
