Page 180 of The Fine Line
Guilt twists quietly in my chest.
“I’m sorry,” I murmur.
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he says. “And I have no problem waiting on you. I’ve had lots of practice.”
I study him in the dim light. His face, open and honest. His mouth, tugged into a patient smile. His eyes, full of something so steady it scares me.
“Rhett?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re really special, too. To me. But also just in general. You should know that. I hope you know that.”
He blinks, then turns and kisses me—gentle, unrushed. I breathe him in. The warmth of his skin.
The quiet way he sees me. The steady beat of his heart.
The words hover at the edge of my tongue.I love you.I do.
But instead of saying them, I press closer. I tangle my leg over his, slip my fingers beneath the hem of his shirt, and pull him down with me.
And for tonight, I decide to listen to my head instead of my heart.
forty-four
CAROLINE
My heart nearly stops as I’m torn out of deep sleep by a shrill sound.
I bolt upright in bed, chest heaving, blinking hard. It takes a few disoriented seconds to register Rhett asleep beside me, his arm slung across my lap. And another moment to realize that the sound is a phone ringing.
Carefully, I lift Rhett’s arm and slide out of bed. Limbs heavy, brain foggy, I follow the sound into the kitchen, stepping over scattered clothes from the night before. I find my jeans rumpled by the fridge, and my still-ringing phone in the back pocket.
I fish it out with a groggy sigh, pressing it to my ear while grabbing the tea kettle off the stove.
“Hello?”
“Caroline? Hey there, it’s Dave.”
I flip on the tap, the water roaring against the metal sink. “Who?”
“Dave Mercer. From the Titans.”
I shut off the water.
And suddenly I’m wide awake.
“Oh—Dave! Hi.” I glance toward the open bedroom doorway and spot Rhett shifting under the covers. My voice softens. “How are you?”
“Good, good,” he says, sounding distracted as muffled noises echo around him. “I’m actually about to hop on a plane, so I don’t have long, but I didn’t want to keep you hanging any longer.”
My stomach tightens.
“I understand,” I start, already bracing for a polite rejection.
“Everyone was really impressed.”
There it is. The setup.
