command. One he’d willingly follow, along with every pleasure-drenched plea she made after that.
She sucked in air and raised a hand, scratching her flushed cheek as she fixed her attention out the window.
After he’d loosened the laces and knotted them, then fastened the buckles that clasped over the top, he dared to place his palms over her feet. Greed and panic fueled this reckless contact. For too long he’d let his feelings hide in the shadows of friendship. Today was all they had—the brink of their future.
“Frankie,” he said, looking up. “I’m going to ask you something.”
Something that was supposed to be about moving to Kiraly with him, but was probably going to come out, Can we stop pretending now?
She met his stare in a flash, mouth tightening before she said, “You finished?” Shifting her boots out from under his hands, she stood.
He shot to his feet in front of her, achingly close, a short swoop away from her quick-tempered lips. Attraction glinted in his blood, bright and bliss-tipped. If she said yes, her tight grey tank would peel off in seconds, but he’d take his time with her skinny-leg jeans, and those punk boots would put him back between her knees . . . God, please let her say yes.
“Some space, please,” she said sharply.
His whole body was tense. Locked and howling for contact. “Is that what you really want?”
Startled, she scanned his face.
“Serious question,” he said, voice low. “Would you rather a steady friendship or honesty?”
Alarm widened her eyes.
He practically growled, “Frankie—”
“I can’t do this,” she said, stepping away.
“Please.” He grabbed her arm, his grip loose and breakable, but—there.
She halted before half-turning back, her throat moving as she swallowed. “You’re touching me.”
No shit. His heart thundered. It was either the worst or best time in their entire friendship to push her like this, but he brushed his thumb along her forearm and said on a rough murmur, “I’ve always wanted to touch you.”
“Oh, God,” she muttered under her breath, looking away.
“I know you feel it,” he challenged, because he had nothing to lose. Not today. “And I’ve felt it every—”
“I can’t, Kris.” She cut him off, nudging out of his hold. After swiping up her backpack and slinging it over her shoulder, she slid her phone into her pocket and moved toward the door.
He stared after her. Panic landed hard in the chest. “Where are you going?”
She looped her other arm through the backpack. “I have another job.”
“Already?”
“Yeah, it’s come as a shock to me, too.” She didn’t meet his eye as she scanned her apartment, one hand moving to touch the passport in her back pocket.
“Wait.” This wasn’t part of the plan. They were supposed to order food and chat about her latest case before he shared the way his life had just shattered and the future they could rebuild together. “We need to talk.”
“You might, but I need to go,” she said, voice thickening as she turned away. “Time’s up.”
Then he’d take time she didn’t have. He strode across the apartment, feeling her eyes on him as he passed her. Reaching the door, he pressed a palm to the surface and took a rallying breath.
He faced her. “I should have told you years ago—”
“Then you wasted years of opportunities,” she said, “because my flight leaves in forty minutes.”
“To hell with your flight.” It came out as a snarl as she walked up to him, his alarm finding release in his fraying temper. No woman in his life had felt like Frankie—and his reckless libido ensured that was no small claim. He couldn’t do this without her. “I’ll buy you a new ticket. This can’t wait.”
“Years, did you say?” She stared at his chest, and his body tensed in a silent demand for her touch. “Clearly it can.”
“I—” He couldn’t think. Couldn’t believe this was happening. She refused to let him confess his feelings while she was running out the door, yet he had so much more to say and literally no other time to tell her.
“Get out of my way, Kris.”
No. He couldn’t actually leave without her. “Please listen—”
“You listen to me,” she said, the last word catching in her throat. “You have to let me go.”
Body rigid in protest, he stepped aside. What else could he do? Blurt his true lineage as she marched out the door? Call his suggestion for her to move across the world with him down the stairs?
“How long will you take?” he asked, grasping at straws. He could fly back