The party is winding down after the chaos with Mike. My cheek still throbs from where he punched me, but the pain fades when Eliot leads me upstairs to his room. The door clicks shut behind us, and suddenly we're alone—really alone—for the first time since we started this... whatever it is we're doing.

He sits on the edge of the bed and pats the space beside him, but I remain standing, suddenly nervous. The events of the night have left everything feeling more charged, more significant than before.

Eliot studies me with those intense eyes of his, the ones that always seem to see right through me. "You should be in bed," he says softly. "You've had a long night."

"I don't want to leave," I admit before I can stop myself. The words hang in the air between us, heavy with unspoken meaning.

He stands up slowly, taking a step toward me. I can smell his cologne, that familiar scent that's been haunting my dreams. "No one's asking you to," he murmurs.