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The rules are simple: unattached companionship, toe-curling sex and a clean break whenever it ends. Either one of us can say the single word that will break it off: Snapdragon. Falling in love is a luxury people like us don't have. He's at the top of his field and I'm at the top of mine. It's only a matter of time before duty calls and one of us walks away. But I can feel myself slipping, falling for him, every time he sends me dinner when I'm chained to my desk; every time he takes revenge on my boss for making my life hell; every tender touch in the dark of night. How will I ever walk away if he says the word? I know I ought to be the one to say it. I've already broken the rules. I know I ought to say it. But I can't.