The echo of the security guard's heavy boots faded down the hall, leaving us in a quiet so intense I could hear the desperate, frantic thud of my own heart. The air between us stayed charged, thick with a heavy, electric weight that made my lungs ache.
Jace’s hand was still hovering just millimeters from mine on the oak desk. His knuckles were white. The raw, vulnerable look in his dark eyes slowly guarded over, a thick wall of discipline slamming back down behind his stare.
He pulled his hand back, clenching it into a fist against his knee.
"We should probably get out of here," Jace muttered, his voice rough, lacking that soft intimacy from just a second ago. "Before they lock the building doors for real."
"Yeah," I breathed, my throat completely dry. A sharp, stinging wave of disappo
