Silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating, as the weight of what had just happened settled into the air. Ashton’s forehead still rested against hers, his breath warm against her skin, his fingers still lingering against her jaw as if unwilling to sever the connection completely.

Vivie’s heart pounded in her chest, erratic and wild, but she wasn’t sure if it was from the kiss or from the unspoken implications it carried. This wasn’t supposed to happen. They weren’t supposed to cross this line. And yet, the fire between them had ignited with such force that neither of them had the will to stop it.

She swallowed hard, gathering the strength to form words even as her lips still tingled from his touch. “Ashton…” her voice came out softer than she intended, breathless.

His grip on her tightened just slightly before he exhaled sharply and took a step back, putting distance between them. His expression had shifted, his gaze dark and unreadable, but there was something else beneath it—something he wasn’t ready to admit.

“This… shouldn’t have happened,” he said, his voice a low rumble.

Vivie clenched her fists, fighting back the sting of disappointment she had no right to feel. “Then why did you do it?”

His jaw tensed. “Because you drive me insane.”

Her breath hitched, but she refused to back down. “Then don’t act like it meant nothing.”

Silence. Heavy, charged silence. Ashton ran a hand through his hair, pacing the length of the room like a caged animal. “We can’t do this, Sinclair. You know that.”

Something in her chest twisted. “Why? Because you’re too afraid to let yourself feel something?”

His gaze snapped to hers, sharp and lethal. “Because it will only lead to disaster.”

She took a step forward, defiant. “Or maybe it leads to something real.”

A muscle in his jaw ticked, but he didn’t respond. Instead, he turned on his heel and walked out, leaving her standing there, breathless, heart hammering, her world tilting on its axis.

The rest of the day passed in a blur, but the tension never dissipated. They avoided each other, but even in avoidance, the pull between them was undeniable. Vivie felt it in the way her skin still burned where he had touched her, in the way his presence in the same room made the air feel heavier.

That night, she lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, her mind looping the events over and over. Every stolen glance, every brush of fingertips, every unspoken word between them. It was intoxicating and maddening all at once.

A knock at the door made her jolt upright. Her pulse jumped as she hesitated before moving to open it.

Ashton stood there, his expression unreadable, but his eyes burned with something she couldn’t quite decipher. He didn’t speak right away, but when he did, his voice was rough, controlled.

“We need to talk.”

Vivie exhaled, gripping the edge of the doorframe, willing herself to stay steady. “About what?”

His gaze flickered to her lips for the briefest second before snapping back up to her eyes. “You know what.”

She swallowed, her throat dry. “Then say it, Ashton. Say what’s really on your mind.”

His jaw clenched. “That kiss. It—” He exhaled sharply, his frustration evident. “It shouldn’t have happened.”

Vivie folded her arms across her chest, masking the sting his words carried. “Yet you’re here. Why?”

He ran a hand over his face, shaking his head as if trying to clear his thoughts. “Because ignoring it isn’t working. Because the way I feel when I’m around you—it’s a problem.”

Her heart stuttered. “A problem?”

“Yes,” he bit out. “Because I can’t afford distractions. I can’t afford to lose focus.”

Her pulse raced, her breath shallow. “And that’s all I am to you? A distraction?”

Something dark flashed in his eyes. “You’re more than that, and that’s the problem.”

The air between them crackled with tension, charged with words neither of them dared to speak. Vivie stepped forward, closing the space between them, her voice quieter now. “Then stop running from it.”

Ashton remained still, his breathing heavier now, his gaze locked onto hers. “If I stop, there’s no turning back.”

She lifted her chin, meeting his intensity with her own. “Then don’t turn back.”

For a moment, the world stood still. Neither of them moved, neither of them looked away. And in that moment, the inevitable felt closer than ever, ready to consume them both.

But Ashton still hesitated, caught in the war between what he wanted and what he believed he couldn’t have. His fingers curled into fists at his sides, his entire body tense with restraint. Vivie could see it—the way his breathing had turned shallow, the way his eyes darkened with something deep, something raw.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he finally admitted, his voice rough with something almost vulnerable.

Vivie took another step closer, so close their bodies were nearly touching. “And what if I don’t care?”

His lips parted slightly, his expression shifting, softening for just a second before the cold mask returned. “You should.”

She reached out, her fingers grazing his forearm, feeling the heat of him beneath her touch. “But I don’t.”

Ashton let out a slow, unsteady breath. “You don’t understand what you’re asking for.”

“Then make me understand.”

His hands came up to her shoulders, gripping them gently but firmly as if he were trying to anchor himself. “This thing between us—it’s dangerous, Vivie. I’m dangerous.”

She searched his eyes, reading every emotion he was trying so hard to hide. “Maybe I like the danger.”

His thumb brushed against her collarbone, the touch so subtle yet it sent a jolt through her entire body. “You think you do. But once you’re in, there’s no way out.”

She smiled, just slightly. “Then maybe I don’t want a way out.”

His breath hitched, and for a brief moment, he let himself fall. His hands slid down her arms, his touch slow, deliberate. He was testing her, testing himself. And then, just as the space between them nearly vanished—

He pulled away. “Go to bed, Sinclair.”

Her heart sank, but she held her ground. “Is that an order?”

His smirk was tired, but it was there. “If it has to be.”

She exhaled, stepping back, giving him the distance he so clearly needed. But she wasn’t done fighting. Not yet. “Goodnight, Ashton.”

He hesitated. And then, just before he turned to leave, he whispered, “Goodnight, Vivie.”

And with that, he was gone, leaving behind nothing but the lingering ghost of what could have been.