Page 48 of Curvy Cabin Fever
But my pulse won’t fucking slow, and the way he’s looking at me?—
It’s the same way I’ve been looking at him for years.
His grip is firm, but not tight. He’s not holding me in place, but he’s also not letting me run.
The fuckerknowsI want to.
“Don’t ignore this.” His voice is softer now, but there’s nothing teasing about it anymore.
I try to rip my hand from his, but he doesn’t let go right away. Just tightens his fingers for a second—a silent message that I can’t fucking read.
“Nothing to ignore,” I mutter.
Morgan exhales a quiet laugh. Like he gets it.
That’s what fucking gets me—that look in his eyes.
“Rhett,” he breathes, voice almost too quiet to hear. “I know this isn’t easy for you…”
My stomach clenches, and I can’t help but dart a look at his mouth again.
Fuck.
Morgan shifts, just slightly, and the space between us disappears. The back of his knuckles skim my jaw—a touch so light I don’t know if it was intentional or if I leaned into it.
My entire body locks up.
Morgan doesn’t pull away or press closer—he just waits, like he’s giving me the choice.
Stay. Or run.
I exhale too harshly, and I cough, slamming my fist against my chest.
I can’t.
I can’t do this.
I rip myself away so fast I nearly stumble back, breathing hard.
Morgan watches me, his expression unreadable now. He doesn’t smirk or laugh at me.
He just nods, like he understandsexactlywhy I can’t do this right now.
That should make me feel better, but it only makes my stomach sink further.
Because he’s not giving up.
And for the first time in my life—I don’t think I want him to.
“You okay?” Morgan asks, watching me too closely as if I’m some wounded animal that might lash out at any second.
I should lie, brush it off, or crack a joke—anythingto make this moment disappear.
But I don’t—Because I’mnotokay.
“No,” I huff, my voice raw, finally admitting how hard I’m finding this whole fucking charade.
I need to stop leading him on.
