He’d managed not to think of her obsessively for the past week—except when he hadn’t. Which was an embarrassing amount of time. Most of the time. All the fucking time. He didn’t need this. He didn’t need to be reminded of how physical she was, of the way she soaked up the air in his lungs. He didn’t need to witness her full lips parting in surprise, or the moment she went very, very still.
