Page 40 of Rules, Roses, and Rivals
This wasn’t innocent.
This wasJake. In my bed. Shirtless. Boxers. Pressed against me like he’d always belonged there.
And it wasn’t just confusing. It was terrifying.
He shifted to kiss the top of my head, then lazily traced his fingers down my bare arm. The lightness of the touch made me shiver.
“If you want me to leave,” he said, voice softer now, more awake. “I will.”
He sounded like he meant it.
He also sounded like it would kill him.
I swallowed hard. “No.” My voice cracked. “Mom’s out of town.”
As if that excusedanyof this.
“Cool,” he murmured, his hand easing me down like he owned me. I didn’t resist. I couldn’t. My cheek found his shoulder, and the scent of him hit me all over again, deep in my chest.
Every breath he took was a reminder that he was right there. That I wasn’t dreaming. That this could go wrong so easily.
He stroked my arm again, slow, thoughtless. Intimate.
Sleep was impossible now.
Every nerve was singing, jittery with awareness. I could feel every inch of him, warm and firm, and terrifyingly familiar. The way his leg pressed against mine. The beat of his heart, steady and solid beneath my hand. The shape of his body—one I knew, but suddenly felt like I’d neverreallyseen.
“Frankie?” he asked, voice threaded with concern. “You okay?”
I closed my eyes. No. I was not okay. My thoughts were racing, colliding. My heart was lodged in my throat, and every breath felt like a gamble.
“I don’t think I can sleep like this,” I whispered, barely able to admit it.
Because I didn’t want to fall asleep.
I didn’t want to missthis.
“Mmm…I’ll fix it…” he murmured. The mattress dipped with a soft bounce as he shifted, and then I was being gathered—rolled gently onto my back, then my side, into heat and solidity. A body. His body. An arm locked snug around my middle, and suddenly I was spooned tight, back pressed to his chest, one of his legs tangled with mine like we were puzzle pieces finally fitting.
One arm curved over my waist, the other slid higher—fingers spreading over my sternum. My tank top had ridden up. His hand was on my skin. Hisfingerswere on my skin. The contact was warm and grounding and terrifyingly intimate.
It was… better.
And also so, so much worse.
Then his lips brushed behind my ear, soft, unhurried. A kiss. Arealkiss. “Go to sleep,” he whispered, voice thick with sleep and something else I couldn’t name. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”
I didn’t know what to do with that. So, I didn’t do anything.
At some point, I drifted off. Somehow.
The next time I opened my eyes, the world was dim but clearer—the black of night shifting to the cold gray blur of dawn. The alarm hadn’t gone off yet. Shadows clung to the corners of the room, but light rimmed the blinds. I was still on my side. Jake was still there.
His arm draped across me, loose now, but heavy. Familiar.
Comforting.
Too comforting.
