My breathing finally steadies.
Ryker’s forehead is still close to mine, his hand warm against my cheek, thumb resting just below my ear. His other arm is firm around my waist, holding me together in a way that feels too natural.
Too easy.
That’s what snaps me back.
I pull away first.
Not abruptly — but enough.
My hands drop from his shirt. I wipe at my face quickly, turning slightly so he doesn’t see how red my eyes are.
“I’m fine,” I say again, softer now.
He doesn’t argue. But he watches me.
And I hate that he saw that. I hate that he saw me crack.
Before either of us can say anything else, footsteps echo down the hallway.
I stiffen immediately.
Jace turns the corner.
He slows when he sees us standing close. His eyes flick between my face and Ryker’s hand still hovering mida
