Jason Todd had faced down armed mercenaries without flinching. He'd stared death in the eye more times than he could count. But this?

This might actually kill him.

His phone screen burned in his hands, the image you'd sent seared into his retinas. It wasn't even that explicit—but it was enough.

Too much.

His pulse hammered in his throat as he paced the length of his bedroom like a caged animal, the click of the lock echoing far too loud in the sudden quiet.

"Fuck," he muttered, dragging a hand down his face.

This was fine. This was normal. You were his girlfriend, for Christ's sake—

So why did it feel like he'd been sucker-punched?

"Jeez, this girl..."

His thumb hovered over the keyboard, typing and deleting the same three words for the fifth time. Nice? Too bland. Hot? Too obvious. I'm gonna lose my mind? Too honest.

Jason is groaning, adjusting his jeans again "Fuckin'... hell."