In my heightened state of awareness, the words crush me. The ultimate rejection. I'm regretting my decision, even if some part of me knows it's the right one.
He releases my ass and shifts his hips back, wrapping me once more in a hug as intimate as it is platonic.
The tears are back, a combination of hurt and frustration. What are the chances I find a man who makes me feel the way this one does - and he turns out not only to be a fictional character, but one who is engaged to someone else?
Par for the course. It takes me a good five minutes before I can breathe steadily again, and there's no way my humming hormones are going to let me sleep or calm down when I'm in his arms. His passion has the power of a tsunami, and it would be so easy for me to surrender and let him sweep me away.
But not right. As much as I hate to admit it.
Blinking away tears, I press my face to his neck and breathe his scent.
He says nothing, and I work on calming down. What's clear: there's no way I can take a nap. My body responds to his touch rather than my silent commands, and bleakly, I realize this might be the only opportunity I ever have to experience a night with someone like him.
And I can't do it.