NOLA
I pull away but my hands linger, reluctant, like they're arguing with my head.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" I ask.
Rhett exhales sharply. "Like what?"
"Like I just said something dangerous." I swallow. "Or like I belong to something you're trying not to touch."
His jaw tightens. " You don't know what you're talking about."
"Then explain it to me," I say. "Because you kissed me like you meant it.And now you're acting like you regret breathing the same air."
He turns his face away. "I don't regret the kiss."
The admission lands heavier than silence.
"Then why are you running?" I press.
"I'm not running."
"You're standing five steps away from me," I say, gesturing at the space between us. "You might as well be on the other side of the house."
"That distance is the o
