She tries to look away from me, but I squeeze her chin gently to get her attention again, and her eyes snap to mine. “I want you to listen to me very carefully because I’m only going to say this once, and you need to hear it.”

Her eyes frantically search my face, but finally settle back on mine and she nods.

“That night at Opal and Oak? It was one of the best of my life—because of you. I’ve never been drawn to anyone the way that I am to you,” I tell her honestly. “But I think you already know that, don’t you?”

She nods again, but it’s a little hesitant, so I move my hand down to her throat again, stroking its edge softly with my thumb and resisting the powerful, almost primal urge to plant my mouth there. To taste the pulse that’s fluttering wildly beneath my fingertips.

“But seeing as you don’t have a boyfriend,” I start again, pausing to give the words more weight, “From now on, I’m going to do everything I can to convince you that I’m the right man for that job. Not him.”

There it is—everything she needs to know. No games, no pretending this is casual. I want her to know exactly where I stand.

Another moment crackles between us, so thick with tension and possibility that it’s hard to breathe. We stand staring into each other’s eyes, oblivious to the rest of the world around us, and I feel like time stops. Just like the night we spent together at Opal and Oak seemed to stretch on forever, time bends around us, pulled taut from opposite ends until there’s no end in sight on either side.

All I see is Hannah, her beautiful, full lips, the redness shining on her cheeks, and her chest rising and falling rapidly with each of the labored breaths she takes.

“I have to go,” she says, although the words seem like they’re hard to get out. Time snaps back to motion, but Hannah doesn’t move or do anything to put distance between us. Yet again, I can’t help noticing the way her body is in conflict with her words. I don’t think she really wants to go anywhere at all, she’s just scared of what’s happening between us. “I have a full day of classes tomorrow, and I have some more studying I need to do.”

“Okay,” I say, stepping back. I’d never want to stand between her and what’s important to her.

Her education matters. Her goals matter. I want to be part of her life, not an obstacle in it.