Page 34 of Boulder's Weight

Then I carefully roll to the side, pulling her with me so she's draped across my chest.

"Holy shit," she breathes, her voice slightly hoarse.

I chuckle, running my fingers through her sweat-dampened hair. "Yeah. That about sums it up."

As our breathing returns to normal, I find myself wondering how the hell we went from awkward morning coffee to this in such a short time.

Whatever this thing is between us, it's intense in a way I've never experienced before.

"You okay?" I ask, noticing she's gone quiet.

She nods against my chest, her fingers tracing patterns on my skin. "Yeah. Just thinking."

"About?"

She hesitates, then sighs. "About how complicated this is getting."

I can't argue with that.

Whatever's happening between us is definitely complicated, especially given the fact she’s only here on vacation.

"We could uncomplicate it," I suggest, even as part of me rejects the idea.

She lifts her head to look at me, her expression guarded. "How so?"

"Just enjoy it for what it is. No expectations, no looking too far ahead."

She studies me for a long moment, something unreadable in her eyes. "Is that what you want?"

The honest answer is no, and that scares the shit out of me.

I've never wanted more than physical release from the women I hook up with.

But with Kelsey...

"I want you," I say finally. "However I can have you."

She lays her head back on my chest, and I can feel her smile against my skin. "That's a dangerous thing to admit, Boulder."

"Yeah, well. I've never been one to play it safe."

We fall into silence, my hand stroking lazily up and down her back.

Just as I'm starting to drift off, she speaks again, her voice so quiet I almost miss it.

"My family is why I had that black eye when we met."

I freeze, suddenly wide awake. "What?"

She takes a deep breath. "When we met in Montana. The bruise you saw. My brother Benji did that when he found me. I had… left my family. Started a new life. He found me in Billings."

Anger flares hot in my gut. "Your brother hit you?"

"He's not a good person," she says simply. "None of them are—except Sam. Sam's the only decent one."

"Your family," I repeat, trying to process this. "They dangerous or something?"

She laughs, but there's no humor in it. "You have no idea."

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