I kissed her back until the taste of cherry candy and salt tears and dark chocolate milk blurred into a single flavor that belonged only to this moment, only to this girl, only to the candlelit wreck we'd made of these wine-colored sheets.
Then I pulled back.
Addison's hands chased me, fingers catching the edge of my jaw before I moved out of reach. Her brown eyes burned through the displaced violet contacts, mascara ruined, lipstick gone, every shield she'd ever built lying in pieces around her on the mattress.
"Where are you going."
Not a question. A demand from someone who had just screamed my name loud enough to rattle the Sanctum's fake windows and was not about to let me walk away from the crime scene.
