Page 40 of Faded Rhythm

“I’ll do it if you keep that robe on.”

She smirks. “Okay.”

She climbs in first. I type a few notes on my laptop before shutting it down. I stand, stretch, and turn the light off, leaving the sconce by the door on in case she needs to get up in the middle of the night.

It’s that slight illumination that provides the big reveal—when I pull the covers back, the fucking robe is still on, but it’s wide open.

Jesus.

I grit my teeth, look away, and slide in under the sheets, staying as far away from her as possible. But even with a little distance, I feel her body heat. And her scent is everywhere. Caramel, or maybe honey. My body is tense. I’m wound up tight.

I’m not getting to sleep for a while.

I close my eyes anyway. She moves beside me in slow, deliberate shifts. I squeeze my eyes shut, but it doesn’t help. The shape of her naked body is stamped on the back of my eyelids.

It feels like torture.

Then she whispers, “Are you asleep?”

I swallow hard. “No.”

She breathes deep and blows it out slowly. “King…will you hold me?”

My body goes rigid. “No.”

She turns toward me in the dark. “When’s the last time somebody held you?”

I stay silent.

Softer now, she says, “We both need it. It’s not about sex. Just…two people who are alone and scared.”

“I ain’t scared,” I mutter. “I don’t get scared.”

She goes quiet, and it eats at me.

Because the truth is, Iamscared. Of her. I’m fucking compromised. Again.

The scariest part is that I’m starting not to care. I’m starting to want whatever this is more than I wanna complete my mission, all while knowing if I fail at it, she won’t be around for me.

She sits up suddenly.

“It’s hot,” she says as she removes her robe.

I stare at the ceiling as she settles back in her spot. I’m itching to reach out, to push my arm across the small expanse between us and touch her. Be touched by her. Just to know how it feels. I need it. She needs it.

“I’m feeling…uneasy,” she says softly. “I keep trying to pretend this isn’t happening, but it comes back to me every time.”

Seconds tick by. Maybe minutes. I shake my head in the darkness, frustrated with myself. Frustrated with her. Wishing I never took this fucking job.

And then I reach out.

My hand finds her arm, which is warm and soft beneath my fingertips.

She scoots closer.

I scoot closer.

And then our bodies meet under the sheets. She wraps her arms around my neck. I wrap mine around her waist.

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