I stared at the message lighting up my phone screen as I leaned against the corridor wall just outside the Resident's office.
Jackson: What are you doing after work today?
Simple. Direct. Dangerous.
My thumb hovered over the keyboard. After everything that happened over the weekend—his arms wrapped around me in bed, the horses, the kisses, the picnic under the trees—I wasn’t ready to admit it out loud, but I missed him. Terribly. Like my skin felt too quiet without his touch. My thoughts kept drifting to him all morning like they had a will of their own.
Still, somewhere deep in my chest, that familiar flicker of fear returned. Like I was tiptoeing through happiness barefoot, just waiting for the glass to shatter beneath me. Before I could answer, a stern voice cut through the air.
“D
