"Hey, Freya?" Jett called, his hand still tangled in her silky blonde hair.
"Yeah?" she murmured, her voice muffled against his chest.
"I think they're gone now."
That snapped her back to her senses. Her eyes widened as she realized what position they were in. With a startled gasp, she pushed herself off him, almost stumbling to her feet.
Her face flushed crimson. "Umm, sorry. My bad," she stammered, turning her head away, refusing to meet his eyes. She tried to compose herself, but the more she thought about it, the more her heart raced. What was I thinking? Hugging him like that?
She pressed a hand to her cheek, feeling the heat spread. Thankfully, the dim corridor light hid the worst of it.
"You don't need to apologize," Jett said quietly, brushing dust from his clothes. His tone was calm, almost reassuring. Deep down, though, he didn't mind the moment. Not one bit.
