Page 90 of For the Plot
I nod. But I’m not. Not even close. I press a kiss to her spine, then her shoulder, then her neck. I want to stay. I want to stay more than I’ve ever wanted anything. But I can’t.
I gently slide out of her. She turns to her side, watching me dress. When I reach the door, I glance back one last time. She’s naked in the crooked bed, smiling softly, sleepily.
“You ruin me,” I say, voice hoarse. And then I walk out. Because if I stay, I won’t ever leave again.
Chapter 19
Skye
“You’re glowing,” Maya says, popping a French fry in her mouth with a pointed look. “Like post-orgasm, slept like a baby, falling head over heels kind of glowing.”
I nearly choke on my iced tea. “Okay, first of all…” I cough. “You don’t know my life.”
She snorts. “Skye, I’ve known you for a decade. You’re practically vibrating. Something happened.”
I glance around the crowded café like Reece might somehow materialize between the napkin dispensers and the lemonade stand.
“We had sex again,” I admit, voice low.
Maya leans in, eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Ohhh shit. Was it good?”
“Good?” I huff a laugh. “It was… feral. Like, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him like that. He showed up unannounced and just—” I exhale, shaking my head. “Pinned me to the wall. Took me on the kitchen counter. Then again in bed. He literally broke my bed, Maya.”
Her jaw drops. “Shut the fuck up.”
“I’m serious. One of the legs snapped. We were tilted sideways and still going at it.”
“Jesus. Is he trying to destroy your furniture or your self-control?”
“Both. And succeeding.”
She steals another one of my fries and chews thoughtfully. “Okay, but real talk… are you catching feelings?”
“No,” I lie immediately. Too immediately.
She gives me a look. “Skye.”
I stir my drink, avoiding her eyes. “I mean, I know what this is. It’s hot. It’s secret. It’s temporary.”
“But?”
I sigh. “But… I don’t know. He’s not just some guy. He listens when I talk. He remembers shit. And the way he touches me… it doesn’t feel temporary. It feels like something else.”
Maya goes quiet for a beat. “Does Archer know?”
That makes my stomach flip. “No.”
“Is Reece planning to tell him?”
I shrug, but it feels heavy. “We haven’t… talked about that.”
Maya arches a brow. “So you’re sneaking around with your ex’s dad. Falling for him. And neither of you has had the ‘what are we doing’ conversation?”
“Don’t say it like that. It sounds bad when you say it like that.”
“Skye. Itisbad. Not because it’s wrong—fuck that. You’re two consenting adults. But you deserve to know where this is going. You’re not built for casual.”
“Sure I am,” I argue weakly. “I’m fun. I’m chill. I?—”
