Page 81 of Rush the Edge

Exhaustion should be setting in, but the longer I lie in my empty bed, the more awake I become. I grab my phone and pull up my texts. I glare at Miles’sthank youtext. At least he has the decency to do that.

I delete it so I can avoid the regret that’ll soon come and stare at Daisy’s name.

Even with me being a complete fucking asshole to her, she’s still showing up to bail me out of trouble.

I glance at the clock.

It’s late.

She should be sleeping. There were bags underneath her eyes, evident beneath the brim of her hat.

I read that with Lupus comes exhaustion, amongst other things.

Maybe I should check on her.

Should I apologize for the hostility?

I scoff.

No.I’m not apologizing. Who’s to say she’s even telling the truth, anyway?

Fuck, why do I even care?

My heart hammers behind my ribs. There’s a terrifying glimpse of losing her again in the distance that I can’t ignore. I don’t even haveher, and yet, the thought scares me enough to fling the covers off my legs.

I’m shirtless but make no move to put a shirt on. My pulse thrums as I snag her key from the drawer beside my bed. River asked me to keep the spare, which is a true tell that he trusts me way too much.

He shouldn’t, now that his sister is back in the picture.

He really shouldn’t—not if he knew what was good for her.

Two minutes later, I’m standing in front of Daisy’s apartment door. Instead of knocking and potentially waking her up, I insert the key and give it a twist.

An earthy smell mixed with something warm hits me square in the face, and suddenly, I’m back to feeling drunk.

I search the area for signs of River, blindly coming up with an excuse if he were to catch me sneaking around, but with his ID badge gone and keys missing, I know Daisy is alone. I chuckle at the sight of her wild plants with their green leaves and let the door latch quietly behind me.

I creep through her apartment like a stalker. Better me than someone else, though, ‘cause then I’d really end up in prison. I evaded it once. I won’t be so lucky the second time.

When she’s nowhere in sight, I move toward her bedroom.

My dick twitches, and the dirty thoughts that slip in tell me that I’m royally fucked. That’s what Daisy does to me, though—she drives me crazyto the point that I’m picturing myself slipping into her bed, pressing against her, and coaxing her to open up those smooth legs for me.

I swallow thickly and shove the thoughts away.

Act like a fucking man, not a teenager.

Slowly, I push on her bedroom door. The breath whooshes from my lungs. She’s curled on her side in a ball, on top of her covers, with her wavy hair shielding her face from me, like she knew I was going to break into her apartment to watch her.

She’s defiant, even in her sleep.

I chuckle quietly and shake my head.

What am I doing?

I should leave.

She’s clearly fine, even if my gut tells me she’s not.

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