Page 32 of Make You Stay

“Kicking or kissing?” she responds with a wink.

That’s got my dick’s attention, and she knows it, judging by her sultry smirk as I shift on the couch. “Definitely the former if you date that asshole again.”

“And if I don’t?”

I can’t be sure if the wine is going to her head or if this is our new and improved sexed-up banter, but every cell in my body screams to grab her close. “Guess you’ll have to wait and see.”

Is it a cop-out? Absolutely, but my restraint is nonexistent where this woman is concerned. The last thing I need is her regretting us, should something happen.

Seeing that emotion on her face is more than I could handle.

“What a gyp,” she laughs, downing some more wine. “Your loss because I have a great ass.” She turns away, grabbing the television remote. “Ready for a marathon session?”

What I’m ready for is Chloe, but it seems we both know moving forward is a bad idea. It’s sexy as hell to dance along that edge, but when we cross the line, we can’t ever turn back.

So, we opt for the safety of our friendship, knowing how much we want each other but refusing to give in to the temptation.

We’re being smart, and I’ll keep telling myself that until I believe it.

* * *

I stir awake,my eyes taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. Okay, I’m not in my bed. Glancing down, I smile, tightening my arm around Chloe’s sleeping form.

Seems that after a couple of movies, we fell asleep on the couch, and sometime during the night, we gravitated to each other’s arms.

Stroking her dark hair from her face, I let my gaze wander over her. She’s so beautiful, and even now, half-asleep, my heart races from her proximity.

I want to kiss her.

Deep and slow, taking my time to learn every inch of that beautiful mouth.

Leave her breathless and begging for more.

Begging for me.

“You are so comfortable.” She snuggles closer, a soft groan flowing past her lips. “It’s going to hurt if I move.”

Pressing a kiss to her head, I nod. “Let me get you some aspirin and another ice pack.” I slide out from under her, the chilly morning air seeping into my bones.

Tossing a log on the stove, I stumble into the kitchen to make coffee but pause when I notice the time.

Gripping the edge of the counter, I try to slow my breathing.

I don’t sleep—three to four hours per night, maximum. Even then, it’s often fitful. But last night, with her body pressed against mine, I slept for seven straight hours.

That’s never happened before.

“Why?” I hiss under my breath, feeling my control over the situation slipping away. “Of all the women in the world, the one I feel something for is the one woman I can’t have.”

Chapter 8

Chloe

“Iheard you’re broken,” a familiar voice calls down the hallway.

“Come on in, Enid,” I yell from my perch on the couch.

Enid sits next to me on the couch, nodding toward my injured paw. “How are you feeling?”

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