Page 100 of The Off Limits Captain
I look toward the dark window. “They will say I compromised the room by letting you in.”
“I know.”
“Then why?”
Peyton breathes in slowly. “Because I bent once. I know what it feels like to choose proximity and call it context. I know what it costs after. I am not doing that with you.”
With you.
Two words, wrong place, wrong altitude.
“Do you regret the article?”
“No.”
“Do you regret me?”
Her face changes.
There it is. The line under the line.
“No,” she says.
My hand tightens on the armrest.
The plane hits turbulence. Her shoulder bumps mine. Neither of us moves away fast enough.
Heat flashes through me, stupid and immediate.
Peyton looks down at where our arms touch, then back to my face.
“We cannot do this here,” she says.
“We cannot do this anywhere.”
“That did not stop you last time.”
My mouth goes dry.
I deserve that.
“I should not have left like that.”
“No.”
“I did not know how to stay.”
“That is not an apology.”
“I know.”
Her eyes stay on mine. “Are you offering one?”
“Yes,” I say.
Peyton’s breath changes.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “For leaving. For making you carry the part I didn’t know how to handle.”
