is you, Dax. Here. In my arms.
She hit Send before she could stop herself, before she let herself start remembering all the very valid reasons why she shouldn’t.
Fifty-three seconds later, her cell rang. Now her bright moonbeam of a heart was lodged firmly in her throat.
Her hand shook as she punched the talk button.
Before she could even get out a hello, he asked, “Now?”
She had to cough to make her windpipe open up. “Um. I don’t know if we …”
“Just answer the damn question, Zoe.”
“I …”
“Say it.”
What else was there to do in the end, but follow the dictates of her desire, of her foolish, yearning heart?
“Zoe, you’re driving me crazy here. Just make up your mind.”
“Sorry. Yes, Dax. Now.”
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