Page 107 of The Rookie

I drag a hand through my hair, still damp from last night’s shower, from last night’s fucking everything, and exhale hard.

I knew this would be good.

But I didn’t know it would fucking wreck me.

I’ve wanted Avery Sinclair since the first moment I laid eyes on her.

Since she laughed at one of my shitty jokes when she thought no one was listening.

And now?

Now I have to pretend like it’s just casual.

Like I don’t want everything with her. Like I’m going to enjoy her gallivanting away to Spain, and shooting any chance at letting a future organically develop between us in the next year.

But what my girl wants—my girl gets. Especially when it comes to her life long dreams. I’m not so selfish to want to capture her and put her in a cage.

I mean, unless we had consensually mapped that fantasy out and added it to her list.

I let out a low, rough laugh, shaking my head as I glance out at the ocean.

I’m fucking insane.

And I’m also so fuckingscrewed. Avery’s got all the chips. I’m at her mercy, and she has no clue.

But I wouldn’t have it any other way.

By the time I walk back into the room, the sun is higher, the air is warmer, and I’m no closer to figuring out how the fuck I’m going to keep my feelings in check.

I push open the door, and there she is—sitting up in bed, her hair a sexy, tangled mess, her bare shoulders peeking out from under the sheets.

Just nonchalantly naked in front of me now. Fuck. I will remember this trip forever.

She stretches, arms over her head, back arching just slightly, and I have to force myself not to crawl back into bed with her and fuck her all over again.

Instead, she smirks.

"Hey, friend…with benefits."

I swallow hard.

It’s a joke. A teasing, playful, completely casual joke.

But it cuts deep, so deep.

Because it reinforces that I’m nuts over here, on my own island. And that I have to play it cool.

I can’t tell her that I’ve been obsessed with her for years.

That I’ve thought about last night a thousand fucking times.

Can’t say that I’ve never felt this way about anyone before—don’t want to have to feel this way about anyone else, and I don’t even know what to do with it.

So I force a grin, leaning against the doorframe like I’m not completely, utterly undone over her.

“Morning, Sinclair.” My voice is steady. Casual. Like I don’t feel like I belong to her now. “Friend of many benefits.”

She yawns, shifting in bed, the sheets slipping just enough to make me lose my goddamn mind.

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