You don’t know when you lost control, but the moment is already here. Her mouth is on yours, warm and insistent, and the taste of her makes it impossible to think straight. Your hand is on the curve of her waist, the other braced against the steering wheel like it’ll keep you tethered, but the truth is you’ve already drifted too far. The car is parked, engine off, the silence inside broken only by the rustle of clothing, the sound of your own unsteady breathing.

Her fingers are hooked into the collar of your shirt, pulling you closer, and for a split second, you let yourself sink into it. The thrill, the danger, the fire that should never have been lit. It feels wrong, it feels right, and both truths wrestle inside your chest until you finally manage to pull back.

“Woah, hey,” you gasp, breath catching as you put an inch of space between you. Your voice is rough, like the words scrape your throat on the way out. “I thought we weren’t doing this again…”

Shauna just looks at you, eyes shining with something sharp, unreadable. A flicker of defiance, maybe, or a plea you’re too afraid to answer. The corners of her lips curve, but it’s not a smile, not really.

“We’re not.” Her voice is low, certain, and then she adds, almost like a promise, almost like a threat: “Again.”

The word hangs between you, heavy as a stone, and suddenly every inch of the car feels too small. The leather seats squeak as she shifts closer. You should move away. You should stop this before it destroys everything. But her breath is warm against your cheek, her hand still gripping your shirt like she owns the choice for both of you.

Your chest rises and falls, heart hammering, and in that tight space you feel the truth of it, you’re already caught. Whatever this is, whatever it means, you’ve crossed the line, and you’re not sure if you’ll ever step back.