Page 68 of Ripple Effect

Fingers brushing the fabrics of the costumes on my lap, I work to pierce the silence. “So, I ended up texting Harper this morning. Forgot she gave me her number at the game.”

“What’d she have to say?”

“Just asked her about what June’s wearing tonight,” I tell him. “Apparently, she was gonna dress up as a puppy from some TV show she likes, but then she got really excited about the idea of matching.”

“Oh, yeah?” The response is lackluster, and his gaze remains forward, a million miles away.

“Yep,” I chirp, plunging ahead. “Want to know what we’re gonna be?”

“Mhm.”

“Wizard of Oz,” I say, my cheery tone overcompensating for his distinct lack of interest. “June’s gonna be Dorothy, of course. We thought Bentley could be the Cowardly Lion. I’ll be Scarecrow because of my blonde hair. Um, and then, you’ll obviously be the Tin Man.”

He casts me a sideways glance. “Obviously?”

“You know, ’cause he’s the one looking for a new heart.”

He lets out a stifled chuckle, not quite reaching his eyes, and the space between us opens like a chasm. My back presses deeper into the seat, uncertainty pooling in my stomach. “Are you in a bad mood or something?”

“No, just a little distracted.” He clears his throat, then, “As much I love talking about the lions, tigers, and bears, maybe we should focus on the elephant in the room first.”

“Ah.” I wince. “I’m guessing you’re referring to ... what happened between us last night.”

A brow raises. “You mean the way you grinded on my lap until you came and how I practically begged you to do it?”

“El!” Heat rises to my cheeks, my words caught in my throat.

“My bad.” He smirks, just a little. “Thought we were getting things out in the open.”

“Yeah, okay, but it’s ... God, it’s so embarrassing.”

“Enlighten me. How could that possibly be embarrassing?”

“Because I ... I mean, I literally orgasmed, fully clothed, just from ... from—”

“Writhing around on my dick?” He runs his fingers through his hair. “Daze, that’s not embarrassing. That’s so fucking sexy. I’ve been thinking about it every minute since.”

A strange sense of pride fills my chest. “You have?”

His smirk falters, sincerity replacing it. “Well, I would’ve, but you didn’t let me hold you last night. My mind was a bit sidetracked.”

“I thought it might be too much after . .. you know, what we did.”

His expression is earnest, a hint of frustration bleeding through. “Too much?”

“Because of your boundaries.”

“Ourboundaries,” he corrects, gaze darting between the road and me. “Daze, you know why I drew the line, and it’s not because I don’t want you. Far from it, actually.”

“So you’ve been saying,” I murmur. He glances at me again out of his peripherals, sighing as he steers the car over, tires crunching on the gravel of the shoulder. “What are you doing? We’re gonna be late now.”

“We’ll be fine. We left plenty of time to get there,” he assures me, turning in his seat to face me fully. The gravity of his gaze pins me in place. “We’ve talked about this, but I don’t think you realize just how much I want you.”

He slides his hand over the center console between us, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. “It’s ... more than I’ve ever wanted anyone in my life. But the circumstances are what they are. We’re leaning on each other constantly right now. I don’t want proximity, the need for connection, to cloud the way you feel. And I certainly don’t want to take advantage of that, either. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

I swallow, trying to find my voice, but he continues before I can get a word in.

“You’re with me in the apartment for a few more days. But after that, if you still feel like you want me, wantthis, then I’m right there with you. We’ll figure out the rest as it comes. But if you make it back home, settled into the routine you’ve just started to build, and you happen to change your mind . . . then I won’t hold that against you, either.”

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