Chapter 11 #4
Could I? If we kept it secret, if we only ever touched behind closed doors where no one could see?
But if we got found out…
I dragged in a breath. It would look bad for me, yeah.
For him, though? Abuse of power, even if I were to deny it—breaking rules that could get him fired.
If we disclosed it ourselves… Better, yeah.
It would still carry a stale taste, though, the kind of sketchy optics that could cost him an attending spot he’d worked so fucking hard for, years and years, long days and short nights and the sheer mental grind, parents that relied on him.
He might want me enough to risk it—he had, tonight. But I couldn’t be the reason he threw it all away.
I loosened my hold.
“All right?” Jesse asked, voice pitched soft like a dream.
Better than. And so much worse for it.
“Yeah.” I cataloged details like a dragon hoarding treasure—the faint flush still high on his cheekbones, the feathery curve of his lashes, a single mole below his collarbone that I’d never see again. I reached up to trace a fingertip around the shell of his ear. “You?”
“I’m good.” He leaned into the touch, his gaze on me. “Really good.”
For a moment, I closed my eyes—breathing. I could stay. Pretend tomorrow didn’t exist. Fall asleep in sheets that smelled like him when I woke.
And then it would be even harder to leave.
Jesse pressed a kiss to my temple before he slid out of me with a soft sigh.
Lamplight haloed his shoulders. I watched him, silence roaring in my ears, as he padded to the bathroom and returned with a warm, damp washcloth to wipe me clean, thumb skimming along my skin.
The tenderness scraped painfully along my throat, sharp as glass.
Maybe it showed, or maybe he’d come to know me better than I’d thought. Either way, he smoothed a hand over my thigh and around to the back of my knee, lightly grounding. “You sure you’re all right?”
It wasn’t fucking fair.
“Well.” I needed a second to fit a smile onto my face. “Don’t know if my legs still work, and there’s a real chance you short-circuited my brain.”
His smirk tilted higher on one side, edged in something sweet. “Need a doctor’s note?”
“Saying what? ‘Excused from rounds. Reason: too thoroughly fucked’?”
“Solid rationale.” He tossed the cloth aside and settled beside me, propped on one elbow, the other hand drifting over my stomach in lazy circles. I soaked it all up—his touch, his attention, greedy like a flower stretching toward the sun.
Pull yourself together.
“I, uh.” My voice felt frayed around the edges. I eased away, and his hand dropped onto the sheets between us. Fingers curling around nothing. “I should get going.”
Something minute tightened around his eyes. “You could stay,” he said. Soft, almost casual. “Plenty of space.”
And then tomorrow explodes.
The thought ached behind my ribs. I reached for my crumpled jeans and boxer briefs, half-hidden at the foot of the bed. My fingers shook even as I fought to keep my tone light and steady. “If I do, it’ll be a lot harder to call this a one-time lapse in judgment.”
For a heartbeat, he looked as if I’d punched him. Blink—and it was gone. Might’ve imagined it.
“Understood,” he said, voice gone flat.
Guilt flared hot behind my ribs. Better this way, though—if I let him see how much this meant, he might ask me again to stay. I didn’t think I had the strength to say no a second time.
I couldn’t let him risk his future.
So I ducked my head to hide my face and pulled on my jeans, the zipper too loud in the quiet room.
On the edge of my vision, I caught Jesse rolling out of bed to tug on a pair of sweats that pooled low on his hips.
He gathered my discarded socks and handed them over without comment—when our knuckles brushed, it felt like the floor tilted.
Hallway. He hovered while I put on my shirt, fingers fumbling on the buttons.
“Some water?” he asked, hands opening, closing. “Just… before you go.”
Why did he have to be so fucking wonderful?
I forced a grin. “Thanks, yeah. Water’d be great.”
He left, came back with a glass while I laced up my sneakers.
I straightened and drank half of it before handing it back, trying not to notice the tired lines around his eyes and the intent way he watched me.
God, I wanted to take it back. Wanted to grip his waist and press my mouth to his throat, wanted to stay.
Instead I reached for the door. “Night, Jesse.”
“Night, Finn,” he echoed, barely a whisper.
I should go.
“Thank you.” I cleared my throat. “For—you know. Tonight. It was…” Incredible. “I had a really good time.”
His smile looked strained at the corners, like it took real effort. “Yeah. Me too.”
There was nothing left to say, so I nodded, opened the door, and stepped across the threshold. Cool air rushed at me, carding through my sweat-damp hair. I didn’t look back, ribs cinched tight, as the door whispered shut behind me.
One foot in front of the other. Each step carried the hollow weight of thoughts that echoed on a loop.
Mistake.
Most alive I’ve ever felt.
Can’t ever happen again.