I draw back with a gasp, reality literally crashing back down on my head, and I'm left blinking up at him like an idiot, mussed and swollen-lipped and my hand still shoved up the back of his shirt. Great.

After the moment of confusion, there's a quick flash of anger -- You started it, you fucking asshole. You started it! -- but it's there and gone before I can even get any words out.

"Fuck," I hiss, pulling away from him and scrubbing my hands over my face. Hiding behind them. Fuck. That doesn't even begin to cover it.