Page 53 of The Rookie

Her scent is in my head, her back is tucked against my chest (I would never, ever be little spoon—okay maybe I would but only with her.) and I can feel the steady rise and fall of her breathing like it’s the only thing grounding me to this moment.

sixteen

. . .

Avery

The first thingI notice when I wake up is warmth. The second is…Griffin.

Somehow, during the night, we’ve managed to tangle ourselves together under my blanket. His arm is heavy and solid where it rests around my waist, and his chest—warm, broad,ridiculously unfair—is pressed against my back.

I don’t move right away. I can’t. My body is caught somewhere between comfortable and a little too comfortable.

I’m not even a cuddler. I don’t like people in my space. But this? This feelsexquisite.

I bite my lip, staring at the wall as I try to ignore the slow hammering of my heart. This is just Griffin. He’s annoying and cocky and always has to have the last word. The fact that he’s warm and smells like cedar and something faintly clean—like soap—should not be doing things to me.

I shift slightly, trying to wiggle out of his hold between his sleepy breaths, but it’s like his arm tightens instinctively.

And then I freeze.

Because I feel it.

My eyes widen as my heart stutters in my chest. Wait. Wait wait wait. Is that?—?

Oh my god.

It takes me a full three seconds to process what’s pressing—subtly but unmistakably—between my thighs.

Oh my god. Griffin is hard.

A fresh wave of heat explodes in my cheeks, spreading all the way down my neck as panic floods me. I should move. Ineedto move. But my body doesn’t seem to want to cooperate.

Because instead of freaking out properly, I feel myself flush deeper, my skin heating everywhere.

Do not like this. Do not like this.

Except I kind ofdo.

I groan internally, squeezing my eyes shut and trying to talk some sense into myself. This is just biology. Bodies do this. It’s normal. It has nothing to do with me.

Nothing at all.

Except now I can’t stop thinking about it, and my heart is hammering in my chest like a jackhammer.

And then, of course, Griffin shifts behind me, making a sleepy sound in his throat as he starts to wake up.

Panic mode:activated.

I hold perfectly still, like I’ve been frozen in time, and silently pray that he won’t realize what’s happening.

No such luck.

Griffin stiffens—literally and figuratively—and then his arm loosens around me.

There’s a long, awkward pause.

“Avery.” His voice is rough with sleep, low and gravelly, like he hasn’t fully woken up yet.

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