Page 47 of Gamebreaker

"People who don't hate each other, but also aren't quite friends. It's a very specific category."

"Okay."

"Okay."

I should've gotten out of the car. Should've said goodnight and walked away and let this end here, in this safe place where nothing had to be acknowledged or examined.

Instead, I sat there, looking at Cam, watching her look at me, the tension between us thick and electric and terrifying.

Her hand moved. Just slightly. Rested on the center console between us, palm up. An invitation.

I stared at it. At those long fingers, those big, capable hands. Thought about her thumb on my pulse point earlier, the gentle way she'd held my wrist.

"I should go," I said, but my hand moved anyway, sliding into hers.

Her fingers closed around mine. Warm. Strong. Sure.

"You should," she agreed, but her thumb was tracing circles on my knuckles, and I couldn't breathe.

We sat there in the dark car, hands linked, neither of us moving. The air felt charged, heavy with everything we weren't saying. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears, could feel heat gathering in places it shouldn’t, could see the way Cam's chest was rising and falling just a little too fast.

"Cam.”

She leaned closer. Just an inch. Just enough that I could smell her—clean soap and something warm and entirely her. Just enough that if I moved forward, if I closed the distance, I could kiss her.

And I wanted to kiss her.

I wanted it so badly my hands were shaking.

"This is a bad idea," I whispered.

"Probably."

"Then why are you holding my hand like that?"

"Because I can't seem to help it."

Her eyes dropped to my mouth and lingered there, dark with want.

"Harper," she said, and my name sounded like a prayer. Like a warning. "If you don't go now—"

"What? What happens if I don't go?"

The words hung between us. Honest. Raw. Terrifying.

She said nothing.

I should've left. Should've pulled my hand away, gotten out of the car, walked into my building and never looked back.

Instead, I leaned closer.

Cam's breath hitched. Her hand tightened on mine.

Our faces were inches apart now. I could see the molten amber in her eyes, could feel her wintergreen and whiskey breath on my lips.

"Cam—"

Her phone rang.