Maybe she should have let him kiss her at Treason. How long had it been since she’d been kissed? Oh to feel his hands on her skin, just once. To bury her nose in the crook of his neck and drag in that delicious scent until she was drunk on Edwin Clarence. “You’re not studying.” She blinked, tearing her eyes away from his throat. “Oh. I’m, uh . . . all done,” she lied. “ ’Kay.” He slammed his book closed. “I’ll walk you out.”
