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Chapter 11 - Chapter 11 — When Touch Stops Being Accidental

That night, I didn't go home alone.

I didn't go with Cassian either.

I went with Jude.

Not because it was fair.

Not because it was safe.

But because unresolved things have gravity.

His place smelled the same. Clean. Familiar. Too easy to remember.

We stood near the door longer than necessary.

"You don't get to kiss him and then come here," Jude said quietly.

"I didn't say I was asking permission."

His jaw flexed. "You always do this."

"Do what?"

"Make me want you when I shouldn't."

I stepped closer. Slowly. Letting him feel it.

"You've wanted me since I got back," I said. "You're just done pretending it's noble."

His hand came up to my arm. This time, he didn't hesitate.

The touch was firm. Grounded. Intimate in a way Cassian's wasn't.

Different didn't mean less.

I swallowed.

"You feel that?" he asked softly.

"Yes."

"Then stop pretending you don't know what you're doing to me."

I looked up at him, close enough now that my breath brushed his jaw.

"I know exactly what I'm doing."

The kiss this time wasn't rushed.

It was slow. Intentional. His hand slid from my arm to my back, pulling me in until there was no space left to negotiate. My fingers curled into his shirt, grounding myself before I forgot how.

The world narrowed.

Heat. Familiarity. History pressed into skin and breath.

When we broke apart, his forehead rested against mine.

"This is the part where things go wrong," he murmured.

I smiled faintly. "Things were already wrong."

We stayed like that longer than we should have. Touching. Breathing. Letting it settle into something heavier.

Eventually, I stepped back.

"I'm not staying," I said.

He nodded, even though disappointment flickered in his eyes. "I know."

At the door, I paused.

"You're going to hate what comes next," I said.

He met my gaze steadily. "So are you."

Outside, the night felt charged. Like everything was waiting.

Cassian texted as I walked.

Cassian:

Tell me you're still in control.

I smiled to myself.

Me:

I always am.

But even as I typed it, I knew the truth.

The turning point wasn't coming.

It was already moving toward us.

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