“Flatter yourself much, Carr?” I respond as I turn back with my clipboard.
“Honestly, yeah, I think you are. My question is, why?”
I knew this moment was coming. The second I saw Ash walking toward me, his jaw set, eyes locked on mine, I knew I was out of time. I had spent the entire day avoiding him—ducking into the hangar when he was outside, pretending to be busy when he looked my way.
“Come with me.” His voice is low and steady, but I hear the demand in it. Before I can argue, his fingers brush my wrist, guiding me toward the back of the hangar. The noise of the airfield fades as we slip into a more secluded spot behind a row of storage crates.
I cross my arms, trying to keep my distance. “Ash, I?—”
“Don’t.” He steps closer, the heat of him invading my space. “You’ve been avoiding me all damn day, Amelia. What’s going on?”
I swallow, my heart hammering. I spent the weekend tangled in thoughts of him—of the way he looked at me, the way his touch lingered a little too long, the way he made me feel like I was losing my mind. And now, standing in front of him, I am afraid I’ll give too much away.
“I haven’t been avoiding you,” I lie, my voice barely above a whisper.
His eyes narrow. “Bullshit.”
She won’t even look at me. That isn’t like Amelia. She is always sharp with a comeback, but now? Now she looks like she is seconds away from bolting.
I exhale and drag a hand through my hair. “If this is about this weekend?—”
“It’s not,” she cuts in too fast.
A bitter laugh slips out. “You sure about that?”
Her jaw tightens. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Well, that’s too bad because I do.” I step closer, watching her breath hitch. “I’m not going to pretend like nothing happened. You can’t look at me the way you did and the connection that we have and then spend the next two days acting like I don’t exist.”
She flinches, just barely, but I catch it.
“You felt it too,” I press. “Didn’t you?”
Her lips part, but no words come out. And that tells me everything.
I’m crumbling. Every inch of space I tried to keep between us is gone, and now Ash is too close, too intense, too much.
“Please,” I whisper, but I don’t even know what I am asking for.
His hand lifts, hesitates for a second, then settles lightly on my hip. “Tell me I’m wrong,” he says, his voice rough. “Tell me you didn’t feel it, and I’ll walk away.”
I open my mouth, but the lie won’t come. Because I did feel it. I am still feeling it, standing here, drowning in it.
And the way Ash is looking at me now, like he already knows my answer—God, I am in trouble.
“We can't do this,” I say more to myself than to the man standing in front of me.
My heart is a war zone—one side screaming at me to run, to protect myself, to not make the same mistake again. The other?The other pulls to him like gravity, like no matter how hard I fight, I am always going to end up here.
Ash’s hand is still on my hip, his grip light, as though giving me a choice. Like if I wanted to run, he’d let me.
But I don’t want to run. Not really.
I just… I am scared.
I look up at him, searching for something—some kind of reassurance that this won’t end the way it always does. That if I let myself fall, he’ll catch me. But I’m not sure he can promise that.
And yet, here I am, still standing close enough to feel the warmth of his breath, my fingers twitching at my sides. The air between us is thick, charged, and pulling me in.
