Killam couldn't move.
Ivy pushed off the closet, straightening herself. He held his breath, wondering if she'd go for that shower, but instead she took a step toward him, then another.
His lungs burned, needing oxygen, but he didn't dare breathe.
She lifted her hand and pressed her fingertips to his chest. His shirt was so thin he could feel the heat of her at all five points. Slowly her fingers curled into a fist with his shirt caught in her grip. She tugged him forward and he breathed in deep, catching the fading scent of her perfume. She tipped her chin up, her gaze on his mouth.
He'd seen that look before, on the plane, and he'd been just as powerless to stop her. She lifted up a tiny bit and closed the distance between them.
Ivy kissed him.