Page 56 of Boulder's Weight

"You don't have to explain," he says, kissing my forehead. "Not tonight."

I'm grateful he’s not making me, but a small part of me wishes he would push, would make me spill my secrets so I wouldn't have to decide whether to trust him.

Eventually, Boulder's breathing evens out as he falls asleep, his arms still locked around me like he's afraid I'll disappear.

I watch him sleep, studying the lines of his face, relaxed now in slumber.

He's beautiful, this man who promises protection.

But as I lie awake, listening to the night sounds of Chihuahua filtering through my window, I can't shake the fear that's taken root in my heart.

This arrangement is becoming complicated.

Feelings are getting involved.

And in my experience, feelings make you vulnerable, make you slip up, make you an easier target.

The dangerous thing about walls is that once someone finds a crack, it's only a matter of time before they see what you're hiding inside.

And some secrets are too ugly to share, even with someone who makes you feel safe.

CHAPTEREIGHT

Boulder

Sunlight streams through curtains I know aren't my own, painting the room in soft morning light.

I blink awake, momentarily disoriented by the strange surroundings until the memories of last night flood back—I’m at Kelsey's apartment.

Her body pressed against mine. Her fear. My promise to protect her.

I'm still in her bed, and that's unusual for me.

I don't do overnights—never have.

Women are for pleasure, not for sleeping beside.

Yet here I am, my arm draped over Kelsey's waist, her back fitting perfectly against my chest like we've been sleeping this way for years instead of hours.

She's becoming more than just a casual fling, and realizing it sends a jolt of panic through me.

I force the thought away, not ready to examine what it means that I'm breaking all my own rules for this woman.

I carefully extract my arm from around her, propping myself up to look at her sleeping face. She seems peaceful now, the fear and tension from last night erased by sleep.

Her light brown hair spills across the pillow, and I resist the urge to run my fingers through it.

What the fuck are you doing, Boulder?

Getting attached is dangerous—not just in a physical sense, but it's true.

Even more dangerous to a woman with secrets big enough to have her jumping at shadows and checking over her shoulder.

My phone vibrates on the bedside table, and I grab it quickly to avoid waking Kelsey. The screen shows multiple missed calls from club members.

Shit.

Four from Amara, three from Python, two from Axel.

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