20

My cheeks must be hot crimson, because it’s only then that I realize I’m close to him. So close that I taste him on my tongue, so close that his warmth is wrapping around me like a blanket. Or, more accurately, a noose, because it’s suffocating me with each passing second. Ordinarily, I’d give him back his safe space and go hide in mine, because isn’t that the right thing to do? However, I also thought that the right thing was Dad being safe until he’s old and gray. But he isn’t, and everything I’ve taken for granted is changing, evolving, and spiraling out of control. So I don’t follow Nate’s order. I stand there in the path of his hurricane, under the scrutiny of those dark eyes and in the shadow of his body. I stay. I stare. And I remind myself to breathe. “Gwyneth, I told you to step back.” “And I’m obviously refusing to.” “Did you just say you refuse to?” “Yeah. Why? Are you scared of something?” He steps forward and I startle, jumping away so suddenly that my back hits hard metal