Page 44 of The Equation of Us

I shake my head, dismissing the thought. This is exactly why I need to recommit to these rules. Because I’m starting to want things I shouldn’t. Starting to imagine scenarios that go well beyond our agreement.

I fold the paper and tuck it into my pocket. Tonight, before anything else happens, Dean and I need to reestablish our boundaries. Remind ourselves what this is and what it isn’t. Get back on solid ground.

Chapter Fifteen

Giving In

Nora

Dean opens the door before I can knock, like he’s been waiting just on the other side. He’s wearing dark jeans and a simple white t-shirt that clings to his shoulders in a way that makes my mouth go dry. His hair is slightly damp, like he showered recently too.

“Hey,” he says, his eyes moving over me in a slow, deliberate assessment.

“Hey,” I respond, suddenly nervous despite everything we’ve already done together.

He steps back to let me in, and I feel the familiar flutter in my stomach as I cross the threshold. His apartment looks the same as before—clean, minimal, masculine. But something feels different. There’s music playing softly from hidden speakers—something instrumental with piano and strings. And there’s a scent in the air that wasn’t there before, something warm and spicy.

He takes my coat, his fingers brushing my shoulders in a touch that feels both casual and deliberate. “Want something to drink?”

“Water’s fine.” I follow him to the kitchen, using the movement to gather my thoughts. I need to bring up theboundaries before we get distracted. Before his proximity short-circuits my rational mind.

He fills two glasses with ice and water, then leans against the counter, watching me. There’s something almost predatory in his gaze, a focused intensity that makes my skin prickle with awareness.

“We should talk,” I say, more abruptly than I intended.

Something flickers in his eyes—surprise, maybe, or concern. “About?”

I pull the folded paper from my pocket, suddenly feeling ridiculous. “Our arrangement. The rules.”

He sets down his glass. “What about them?”

“I just think we should make sure we’re still on the same page.” I unfold the paper, not quite meeting his eyes. “That we’re clear about what this is and isn’t.”

Dean is quiet for a moment, then pushes away from the counter. He moves toward me, stopping close enough that I can feel the heat radiating from his body.

“Look at me,” he says, his voice low.

I do, reluctantly.

“What’s really going on, Nora?” He studies my face with that unsettling perceptiveness. “Did something happen?”

“No.” I shake my head. “I just… Daphne was talking about you the other night. About maybe having regrets about ending things.”

His expression doesn’t change. “And?”

“And it made me realize how complicated this could get.” I gesture between us. “We need to be careful. Stick to the boundaries we set.”

Dean takes the paper from my hand and glances at it, his mouth quirking slightly at my neat handwriting. Then he sets it on the counter.

“Okay,” he says simply.

I blink, thrown by his easy acquiescence. “Okay?”

“If you need to reestablish the rules, we can do that.” He takes a step closer. “No sleepovers. No texting except about meeting up. No jealousy. No emotional entanglement.” His voice drops lower with each item, until he’s practically whispering. “Is that what you want to focus on right now?”

My breath catches. He’s so close I can see the individual flecks of darker gray in his eyes, smell the clean scent of his soap.

“I just think it’s important that we—”

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