I didn't go home.
The elevator spat me into the lobby, and I stood there shaking for a full minute before my legs remembered how to work. Gregory was watching. He knew I hadn't told Jace. He knew about the almost-kiss in the bedroom—the hands on the desk, the breath on my cheek, the way Jace looked at my mouth like it was the only thing he wanted in the world.
But if you kiss him again—if you even touch him—I'll make sure you regret it.
Again. He said again. Like we'd already kissed. Like he'd been close enough to see something that never actually happened.
The thought made bile rise in my throat. I shoved through the lobby doors and into the freezing night. The snow had stopped. The streets were wet and black and empty. Every shadow was a threat. Every parked car was Gregory Kingston
