36| Locked in

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     "Anson! I could get fired for this!"

    My hand grips the doorknob and I wiggle it quickly. There's obviously no use for my attempts. This door has always locked people in. I put my hand on my forehead in distress.

    This is bad. This is really bad. This is-

    Anson suddenly presses a palm against the door and leans close to my face. I remember why he's here and feel panicked at the thought of being unable to run if need be.

     "Calm down." He says gently. He brings my hand away from the door with a smirk. My back stays flattened against the door as he moves closer to me. I feel my heartbeat in my throat.

     "Are you scared?" He raises a brow.

    Scared of confrontation? Yes.

    "No." My voice is as cold as I can make it.

     What does he think he's going to accomplish? I'm not going to change my mind.

     "You're awfully tense." His lips turn up into a smirk.

    A smirk that I've kissed before.

     Frustration gnaws at me.

     "It's just- I forgot I was supposed to be perfectly comfortable with being locked inside a room." My voice is snappy.

He shrugs. "I thought you were used to the tension between us by now."

     How dare he use his stupid douche lines to woo me!

"Yes... some say tension is synonymous to hatred."

     "Others say excitement." He counters.

    "Well I don't." I blurt, lamely.

     I'm usually much better at comebacks, but how can I focus with Anson so close to me?!

"Hatred? So you hate me now?" His smile is wide. And perfect.

     Of course not, does he know what he does to me?!

"Not exactly."

       He raises a brow. "You either do, or you don't."

     "I could never hate you." My lips form a downward curve.

"Then what could you do?"

My lips part, but no sound escapes. His eyes are vulnerable, deep. His expression is troubled- and that troubles me.

     Should I so easily forget everything I had resolved to think and do since the night in the car?

    A rush of air escapes my mouth in a sigh.

    Maybe I should stop overthinking. Maybe I should let my heart take over.

     Without thinking, I grab Anson's shirt collar and press my lips to his. His body freezes as I claim his lips with a hungry kiss. His slow response is surprising to me. His mouth is warm. His intensity is high, but at the same time,  the caress of his lips is softer than ever before.

    I taste tentatively with my tongue, putting all of my energy into communicating my emotion through the kiss. I want him to feel what I have been feeling. To my satisfaction, Anson's strong arms clutch my body to his, unwavering like always. His brows furrow during the passionate embrace.

We kiss until we're out completely out of breath, and we finally pull away, gasping for air.

    "Indie." His voice is slightly hoarse. His perfect teeth press into his rosy lip when he bites it. "What was that?"

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