Page 69 of Amnesty

He cursed and jumped forward, landing inside the small box with me.

“What are you doing!” I exclaimed dubiously as the doors firmly closed and the car began to glide down.

Eddie swung around and promptly hit the emergency stop button.

Beneath our feet, the thing lurched to a stop, making us rock unsteadily.

“That was the stop button!” I yelled.

“What gave you the first clue?” he drawled quite sarcastically. “The bright-red color, the giant size, or the fact it says STOP in bold writing?”

“What’s with the surly attitude?” I asked coolly, crossing my arms over my chest. If anyone had the right to be surly, it was me.

“You saw us,” he intoned, stepping forward. It was a rather menacing step.

My body thought it was delicious.

I lifted my chin. “In bed together? Yep. Got an eyeful.”

His lip curled. “You thought you could run out without a word?”

“You looked busy,” I snapped.

He sighed heavily, rubbing a hand over his already wild curls. “This is why I hit the stop button,” he murmured.

“What?”

His eyes flashed up to mine. He walked forward against me until my back was pressed to the wall, his hands flattened beside my head, caging me in. “We’re not getting out of this elevator until I make something crystal clear.”

“What’s that?” I asked, holding his stare.

“What you saw back there wasn’t what it looked like.”

“I know that,” I replied. “You were comforting her. She needs it.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, but he nodded. “She had a rough night. It’s, uh…”

I laid a hand on his chest. “You don’t have to explain. I know. She was your best friend. Your first love. You spent a long time wondering what if.”

His eyes bounced between mine. Searching. I didn’t know what he was searching for, so I couldn’t give it to him.

“I hurt you. Seeing me like that with her hurt you.”

“Maybe a little,” I admitted. Then quickly I added, “But I know it shouldn’t. I know—”

“Stop right there, Am,” he growled.

My eyes grew wide.

“Your pain isn’t any less important than hers. If anything, yours ismoreimportant.”

A little part of me sang a joyous song. Clearly, I had some real issues here. “Hers is much more recent.” I allowed.

“No.” He came forward, his body pressing all along mine so I was sandwiched between him and the wall. His nose caressed my cheekbone; his lips brushed against my jaw.

I sighed. His touch was always my undoing.

Drawing back, he said, “Look at me.”

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