Agnes & Elijah
Agnes
Elijah’s breath was warm against my neck, the faint scent of whiskey and pine curling through the small, dark space between us. I could feel the rise and fall of his chest against my body, and I didn’t know what to make of it.
To make matters worse, my own pulse was entirely unhelpful, hammering so loudly beneath my skin that I was sure he could hear it. There was no reason for me to feel this way. None. And yet—
I swallowed, trying to gather the words tangled somewhere in my throat. “Elijah, what are we doing in a broom closet?”
His gaze flickered toward the door, his body half-leaning against me as he shifted just enough to poke his head out of the room. A moment passed. Then another.
Finally, Elijah eased back into the hallway, looking for all t
