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“I don’t need you to protect me, Whitney.” He pulled away again. “Why are we—Oh, fuck, Whitney, we can’t do this.”
I bit down on my lip as he smoothed down his clothes and fumbled in the dark. I couldn’t have moved if I’d tried. I just stood there, frozen in place, my mind reeling.
“You won’t be getting back together with Christian. I don’t care what happens. He can’t have you.”
“I’d do it—”
“You won’t.” His voice was firm and serious.
“There has to be way,” I continued. “We can still be together. In secret. We can see each other when we can. Christian will back off, but if he doesn’t, I could pretend to be with him again, and when I graduate—”
“No,” Rhys said sharply, cutting me off. “The thought of him—No. I won’t allow it. Whitney, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have—I couldn’t stop myself.”
“I wanted you to kiss me. I wanted this!”
“It shouldn’t have happened—”
I cut him off with another kiss and immediately felt him relax into my touch. I was on the verge of tears, and I felt like he was holding on by a thread.
This kiss—It was our last. I felt it in my bones as he pressed me to the wall and kissed me with every fiber of his being. I took in his taste, his scent, and his touch, memorizing all of it until it was the only thing in my mind.
I love you. Rhys, I love you. I love you so much.
The words echoed through my mind. I wondered if he knew, if he could sense it, if the truth cut through the desperation we both felt as the kiss deepened and I again lost touch with reality.
I thought about every sidelong glance we’d shared. Every charged conversation we’d had. Every moment where we’d locked eyes and held each other’s gaze for a moment too long.
Did I believe in soul mates? I hadn’t before. But now?
It was like he was made for me and me for him. Like our bodies were melded together. Like everything I was and everything he was completed us.
I couldn’t lose him.
But I knew I had to let him go.
“Rhys,” I cried, my voice a hoarse whisper in the eerie quiet of Hollis Hall. “I—”
A faint whisper of voices cut through the air, then the clattering of footsteps. I prayed it was only the ghosts who walked the halls but knew without a shadow of a doubt someone very real and very alive was near. Someone with rapid footsteps, someone drawing too close and too quickly for us to part and escape without being seen.
Rhys slammed into me, his hands caging me in against the wall. I froze, closing my eyes as he protected me from view with his large body, my own frame disappearing into the shadows.
But we were totally disheveled. My sweater was untucked, and my jeans were unzipped. I didn’t know what my hair looked like, but Rhys’s hair was sticking up at odd angles, tangled by my fingers.
The footsteps passed us, but the whoever it was turned and started walking back.
Oh, no. This was it.
I gripped his shirt in my hands and rested my forehead against his chest. “I’m sorry, Rhys.”
I felt him shake his head, his breathing coming in slow, trembling rasps.
“It’s not your fault. It’s mine. Everything is going to be okay.”
It felt like an eternity before the footsteps sounded directly outside of the alcove and came to a stop.
I kept my eyes closed.
Was it crazy that I was almost relieved we’d been caught? That I was selfishly thankful?
