Page 187 of Red Zone
Her brow furrows slightly.
I shift closer, my voice dropping.
“Just…one more time,” I murmur. “One more night. Get it out of our systems. End it the same way it started.”
Her lips part like she wants to protest, but no words come out.
And I can see it in her eyes—she’s just as torn as I am.
Because no matter how much she wants to do the right thing…
She wants me too.
She swallows hard, her gaze dropping back to her lap as my words settle between us.
I can almost see the storm behind her eyes—the part of her that wants to say no, to protect herself, to keep the lines clean.
And the part of her that doesn’t.
The part that still feels what I feel every time we’re in the same room.
Her hands twist in her lap, and she shakes her head faintly.
“Carter…” she starts, her voice soft but firm. “This isn’t just a game. It’s not something we can just…switch off when it’s convenient. I don’t know if I can?—”
I reach over, gently resting my hand on hers, stopping her words.
“I’m not asking you to switch anything off,” I say quietly, my thumb brushing over her knuckles.
“I’m saying…one night. No pretending it’s nothing. No pretending it doesn’t mean something. Just…one more time to feel it. Before we have to let it go.”
Her lips press together, and she finally looks up at me, her eyes glassy but sharp.
“And then what?” she whispers.
I take a breath, my jaw tightening as I search for the right words.
“And then,” I say, my voice low and steady. “I’ll walk away if that’s what you really want. But at least we’ll know.”
Her breath hitches, and her fingers tighten slightly around mine.
And that’s when I see it—the faintest nod. Barely more than a breath.
But it’s enough.
I squeeze her hand gently, my chest tight but lighter somehow, and she exhales, closing her eyes like she’s already bracing herself for what’s coming next.
Because so am I.
She sits there for a long time, her eyes closed, fingers still tangled with mine.
When she finally opens them, they meet mine—and I swear there’s something breaking and building all at once in her gaze.
She lets out a quiet, shaky breath.
Then she stands.
My chest tightens as I watch her cross the room, her steps slow but sure.
