“Fuck. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. Tris, I’m sorry.” It’s another sorry. We’re sorry again, but he’s right. This was a terrible idea. I begin, quietly and appropriately freaking out. “You kissed me,” I say, not sure if it’s an observation or an accusation. Rafe’s nostrils flare, taking the latter bend in the road. “You kissed me!” “You started it!” Though I’m not really sure if that’s true. “You continued it,” he counters, and shit, that is totally true.
