I squeezed my eyes and wished, sincerely and wholeheartedly, for the universe to do me a favor and crack the floor open so I could fall straight in and never be seen again.
Anything, anything, would have been better than kneeling under Cassian Wolfe's scrutiny with the humiliating memory of last night hanging over me like a guillotine.
"You were so desperate, Noah," he murmured, his voice low and cruelly amused. "So needy. Grinding against me like a bitch in heat."
Heat flooded my face so fast it felt like my skin might combust. "I was drunk," I whispered, clinging to the excuse like it could save me.
"Is that your excuse?" he asked, sharp as broken glass.
I didn't answer. I couldn't. My throat had closed up, and my tongue felt like it had turned into sandpaper. Any attempt at speaking would've just resulted in sounds that resembled choking.
