Anna's POV:

His arms don't give. That's the first thing I register—that his hold is absolute, unapologetic, both arms locked around me before I can do anything useful about it, my face pressed against his chest with his chin dropped hard into my hair.

"Anna." My name comes out of him like something he's been carrying at a dead sprint. "Just stay. Just—stay."

I push against his chest. He doesn't move. His hand finds the middle of my back and starts ...