Page 44 of Fall Apart

“Hey, what’s wrong?” I ask, stepping closer to him, continuing to run a hand over his thin, dark chest hair, leaving my hand over the wolf tattoo.

His concerned eyes study my face. “Nothing. Just don’t let anyone ever tell you who you are, Lizzy.” He keeps looking at me, but it’s likehe’s haunted by a distant, sad memory. He shakes his head, realizing he’s been staring and grabs my shampoo. “Turn around.”

He doesn’t give me the chance to follow his order and turns me around on his own. I’m realizing I like the way he manhandles me with his big strong hands. I thought it would be a fun change when I first saw him at Roxy’s. Something to try on for size for a night. But now, it’s comforting in a way I didn’t know I wanted. Maybe even needed.

I lean back against him, feeling his cock against my lower back because he’s so much taller than me. But when he starts to work the shampoo into my hair with those same, strong hands, dear god. I whimper at the heavenly touch.Now thisI could get used to.

I hear him sigh behind me and press himself harder against my lower back. “Something wrong?” I ask.

His hands keep working and I really can’t get enough of it. “This shampoo. This smell. I’ve been thinking about it every day since that night at Roxy’s.”

Something about that statement sends another jolt to my core.

“You’re not what I expected that night.” A low laugh rumbles in his chest and I can feel it against my back. He doesn’t talk, but he keeps massaging my scalp, permission to keep going. “I knew you were hot. I assumed you knew what you were doing in bed. I thought you’d be a fun distraction. But Clay, you’re so much more.”

“Oh yeah?” Another laugh rumbles behind me. He pulls me under the warm shower and starts to rinse my hair. “What am I like? Tell me.”

I tilt my head back, leaning into him more and enjoying the hot, steamy water running over me while his hands run through my wet hair. “I don’t know. You look young, but you’re somehow old and soulful. You’re just different. You’re not just a pretty face. You’re more.”

“That sounds an awful lot likeextra. Very original.” There’s a playful, teasing tone to his voice.

I spin and lean against the cool shower wall, crossing my arms and playfully glaring at him. “Fuck off, Clay.”

He laughs and turns off the water, stepping out and grabbing two towels. “Come on. I’ll tuck you in, princess.”

He grabs my hand, pulling me from the shower and drying me. After putting on my sleep shorts and oversized tee, I crawl into bed. To my surprise, he curls up behind me, draping a massive arm over me, pulling me in tightly. “I didn’t think you’d be the cuddling type.”

I hear a frustrated sigh behind me. “Shut up, Lizzy. You’re ruining it.”

And with that, I doze off in his arms. Completely, blissfully, not giving a shit about how my day started out. This is exactly how Clay said he’d make me feel. This is not what I expected.

Clay is not what I expected.

When I wake,I reach behind me, suddenly missing the warmth that I enjoyed all night. I rollover, breathing in the scent of Clay.

Wait.

Oh my god.

My eyes fly open.

I hooked up with Clay last night. My best friend’s soon-to-be-brother-in-law. He’s my friend too. Also sort of my roommate. We didn’t even talk about rules or anything.

My mind races. This could be a mess. I’m going to need to process this, but not right now.

Because all I can think about is the way he treated me last night. Like I was the only thing in the world that mattered. He did what he said he would do, make me feel like nothing else mattered and remind me who I am.

After my eyes adjust to the morning light peering in the window, I look over at the nightstand, noticing a small package wrapped in pink paper with a sparkly bow. I reach for it and carefully open it.

It’s a novel. Of course, it’s a smutty one. I feel my heart flutter when I open the book and see the note card in it.

Thought you’d like this. And no, I haven’t dog eared any of your precious pages. Happy birthday, Princess.

I feela stray tear run down my cheek onto the fluffy pillow. A tear, that for once, doesn’t bother or upset me.

Clay Chapman is definitely not what I expected.

CHAPTER 22

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