“Do you?” My hands curl at my sides, but fuck it. I can’t stand this close to her and keep my hands to myself. I tuck a loose lock of hair behind her ear, skimming my fingers over the soft shell. She closes her eyes but doesn’t pull away. “You don’t look like you’re sure of anything, Shayleigh.”

When she lifts her eyes to mine, her expression is one of resigned sadness. “Whether I am or not isn’t your concern anymore.”

I’m going to change that. “You don’t love him.” Maybe I’m reassuring myself. Maybe I’m reminding her.

“I care about him. We care about each other.” She narrows her eyes. “Stop looking at me like I’m some challenge. You only want me because you can’t have me.”

“That’s not even a little true.” I hum. “Wait, before I forget . . .” I pat my pockets before finding what I’m looking for. “I’m supposed to give you this.” I hand her the business card. “One of my teammates on the Demons has a sister who’s a literary agent. She specializes in young adult lit and romance, so assuming you’re still writing that, you should send her an email. Make sure you include his name in the subject line.”

She stares at the business card. “I know this agent. Callie Weiman reps some big names in YA. Last I checked, she wasn’t open to queries.”

“But she’s willing to consider yours.”

She blinks up at me. “Why do you do this?”

“Do what?”

“Just enough to keep me on the hook. Just enough so I can’t ever really let you go.”

The words are a knife to the gut and a balm all at once. I wonder if she realizes she admitted she still has feelings for me. I don’t want to hurt her. I hate knowing that I have. But if there’s any chance for us, I have to try. “What if I don’t want you to let me go? What if I want you to forget your professor and give me a fucking chance?”

She holds my gaze for so long that I almost expect her to agree, but then she takes a step back, emphasizing that distance between us, and releases a breath. “Come on, Easton. Let me show you around campus.”

Shay