Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run

Clara went quiet this time, her gaze fixed on the table. She sat there for what felt like ages before finally asking, "How's Aiden?"

She already knew the answer-she'd just called the hospital herself. She was only asking to change the subject.

Dylan was turning his fork and knife in his hands before he finally set them down, his whole posture heavy, as if he was carrying something he couldn't say out loud.

Then it hit her: he'd just asked her something, hadn't he? And she hadn't answered.

With Dylan, not answering was as good as saying no. He never seemed to expect good things, especially when it came to feelings.

Clara took a breath. "Dylan."

He didn't say anything, just kept his eyes lowered, looking lost.

She tried again, "Are you full?"

"Yeah."

At least he answered that.

Clara reached out, running her hand over his shirt-half the buttons were already undone. "If you're done eating, let's keep going. Just skip work today."

taking the lead. He hesitated for a few seconds before finally taking her

it wouldn't be great so she just cupped his face

a lot like Z in one way: if things were good in bed, everything else

the sofa, practically asleep, while Dylan-shirt barely buttoned, just his dress

she didn't even have the strength. She just let herself lean into his touch, mumbling

her up to the bathroom for a shower, making sure

he carried her to bed, she finally caved. "I

against her lips. "I'm not a monster,

So he hadn't planned to keep

long breath, eyes half-shut, watching him move around the room. Someone knocked at the door, but she couldn't

a minute and came back with an armful

started hanging his clothes in her already too-small

Looked like he was planning

a strange ache she

kept organizing his stuff—and even straightened up her clothes while he was at

his waist from behind, her

just like