"Riley, leave. Please." The words scrape out of Henry's throat, low and rough, as if dragged over gravel.
He stumbles backwards, chest heaving, but Riley doesn't give him space. He steps closer, his gaze locked on Henry like he's afraid to blink and lose him.
"Unless I'm not really your partner," Riley says, voice steady enough to cut through the charged air, "the one you're connected with... emotionally." He stops inches away, searching Henry's eyes.
"You are." Henry's answer is immediate, almost desperate. "But that doesn't mean you should be dragged into this. I f*cked up. I don't want to drag you into it."
"The fact is I can't stand watching you like this." Riley's voice tightens, raw with frustration. "You look like you're drowning, but refusing to take the hand reaching for you. I get it, you think I'll believe you're using me. You think I'll see myself as some forced solution. But..."
