“We don’t have to talk about what happened.” I stand up. “I feel like we got caught in all of the adrenaline, you know with my mom, the guy at the grocery store, and then the society declaring they’re after me.”
His gaze welds to mine, and a line forms between his brows. “You think that’s why”—he motions at the sofa—“we ended up doing that?” He’s dumbfounded at the concept.
And it is pretty dumb, but … “You’re betrothed, and you’ve told me a handful of times that you don’t do this kind of stuff.” I gesture between him and myself. “Because of that, you don’t owe me anything.”
He plunges into silence, a series of unreadable emotions flickering across his face. “I know that.”
“Good. Then we can continue being friends who experimented once with each other.” I force a smile.
Why do those words feel like razors slicing my tongue?
His throat muscles work as he forcefully swallows. “If that’s what you want, then yeah, sure.”
I could rescind my statement, but at the end of this, River will end up with Isla, so getting involved with him would lead to no real future. And that’s not what I want, even if River is the sweetest and most gorgeous guy I’ve ever met.
I nod, and the move is worse than razors slicing my tongue. It feels hollow, like I can feel my impending loneliness creeping up inside me.
He gives an uneven nod, too, and then quietness twirls around us.
“I’m going to go back to my room.” I step toward the front door.
His warm fingers fold around my upper arm, reminding me of how good it felt for him to touch me. “No, it’s not safe,” he insists. “You should stay here. You said we could be friends, and as your friend, I want to protect you.”
Goddammit, why did he have to use that word—protect? It’s so soft and inviting.
I turn my head to look at him. “I don’t need protection. I know how to do that on my own.”
“I know.” With a few steps, he reduces the space between us. “But you don’t have to remain in fight mode, Mads. Like I said earlier, stay the night here and feel safe. What happened between us doesn’t need to change things.” He smiles, the corners of his lips a bit stiff.
He’s trying. And I do want him to remain my friend.
“All right,” I agree. “I’ll stay the night.”
The rigidness of his posture slackens. “Good. You can stay in my bed. No arguing.”
My lips part then shut. I eye him over. “How did you know I was going to argue?”
“I’m catching on to your tricks.” This time, his smile is easy.
It makes me feel better about staying.
Maybe we can do this.
Maybe we can go back to being friends, even after making out and him giving me an orgasm.
He walks me back to his room like a true gentleman.
“Goodnight, Maddy,” he tells me as he starts to close the door. “Sweet dreams.”
I smile, and my lips stay tipped upward even when I climb underneath the covers of his bed. The comforter smells like him, and I attempt to fight the urge to breathe in his scent, but as I begin to doze off, River is what’s on my mind.
River
Ican’t sleep. The sofa is comfortable enough, but I’m stuck in a cycle of tossing and turning, thoughts of Maddy haunting my mind like the relentless bastard of a ghost. The thing needs to fizzle away into nothing, return to its grave and never come out again. But no matter what I do, I can’t stop thinking about her.
It starts with me attempting to solve the mysteries that surround her, but once I’ve exhausted that, it drifts to forbidden places, ones where she’s underneath me again. Only, this time, I’ll take her clothes off, strip her bare …
“Stop,” I mumble aloud as I roll onto my back.