“Promise me you won’t run.” “I think that depends on what the secrets are.” “I didn’t murder anyone.” I laugh nervously. “I guess that’s a good sign.” “Promise me, mouse. Because I will chase you and it won’t be fun for either of us when I catch you.” The buzziness in my stomach sinks between my thighs and I’m suddenly throbbing. It might be fun. I might want to tempt fate.
