just like that—he brought it out.
The chip.
Held between his fingers like it was nothing. Like it wasn't the most dangerous little object I'd ever laid eyes on. But his gaze wasn't on the chip. It was on me.
Fixed. Sharp. Piercing.
Like he was wondering why the hell I wasn't glued to him like he'd told me to be. And the moment I caught that look, my instincts kicked in. I rushed to his side like a damn trained dog.
But fuck. Damnit!
I swear to God...it was a mistake.
My shoulder brushed too close. Too fast. In my stupid panic to get to him, I stumbled, and my elbow slightly—barely—shoved him.
Han stumbled.
And the chip...the goddamn chip..wobbled in his hand, catching the air like it was about to tumble straight to hell.
I swear, if that thing had hit the floor and shattered?
I would've shot myself.
Right there.
No hesitation.
