Page 41 of From Air

Self-torture? Check.

Risking my current residence? Check.

Disregarding Will’s nonnegotiable house rule? Double check.

Maybe that’s okay, since I have no plans to let it go past this. I’m technically not breaking any rules. I’ll keep my lips above her shoulders and my hands in neutral territory.

Our lips fuse, and I fight my mind’s urge to make sense of this.

Does this have to make sense?

I’ve dined on SPAM marinated in Kool-Aid. To the average person, that doesn’t make sense. And it doesn’t have to.

Her hands rest on my chest and slide south. I grab her wrists. “Nope,” I say between kisses.

She bites my lower lip, and I’m forced to suppress a moan, which channels all the tension straight into my dick. We might need our own set of rules.

SNAP!

“Ahh!”She leaps off the counter, wrapping her arms and legs around my torso.

“What’s going on?” Maren’s accusatory tone is the cherry on top of this clusterfuck as the front door clicks shut behind her.

Fuck. That was close. Too close.

Jamie’s gaping eyes fill with distrust.

I peel her arms and legs off me.

“Yuck. Yuck. Yuck!” Jamie runs out the back door—no shoes and no explanation to Maren.

I retrieve the trapped mouse and hold it in the air.

Maren doesn’t flinch. “Will’s going to be thrilled.”

“Unlike Jamie.” I smirk.

Maren laughs, shrugging off her brown wool coat. “That did look suspect for a moment. Is that why she was holding on to you for dear life?”

“No. She suddenly felt really horny. I tried to push her away, but—”

Maren snorts. “I’m not buying that one.” She collapses onto the sofa and checks her phone.

Good. I don’t want her to buy it.

“I’m going to toss Mickey in the trash and make sure our new roomie isn’t stuck in the corner of the shed in the fetal position.”

“I love that about her. She’s not like the rest of us. It’s refreshing.”

“It’s something,” I mumble before heading outside to dispose of the mouse. Once that’s done, I knock on the shed door.

“Come in,” Jamie calls in a muffled tone.

When I open the door, she glances up from the bed, where she’s dangling upside down off the side, looking underneath it.

“Seeing if Mickey has a family?”

She flips her head up, kneeling on the bed, and flicks the hair out of her eyes. “Fitz, you killed that mouse. I swear I heard it scream. Did you hear it? And, oh my god.” She covers her mouth for a second, eyes wide. “We. Almost. Got. Caught.”

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