She wants him to stay so badly that her nails are digging into her thighs to keep from pulling him to her. And she feels that pit of disappointment that she won't get him and, paradoxically, a surge of pride for him. For choosing when she knows he wants to have her as badly as she wants to be had.

It is still so hard to make herself be still, to not kiss him again. "Come smoke with me tonight," she whispers back. "In the Greenhouse."

Where the temptation is so much less than it is right here, where all he has to do is touch her.