Page 148 of P.S. I'm Still Yours

My gaze skims over the quote.

It’s okay to lose your shit sometimes. If you don’t, you’ll end up full of shit and you’ll explode. Then there’ll be shit everywhere and nobody wants that.

I never thought a quote about shit could bring tears to my eyes, but I’m losing the battle against my grief before I know it, a lone tear streaming down my face.

I wipe it away quickly. “Why do you have this?”

He averts his eyes like my tears make him physically sick. “Gray gave it to me.”

“He did?”

Kane nods. “Yeah. A little after we moved into your house.”

“Why?”

“We’d sold most of my designer clothes so that my mom could afford rent, and I had three shirts left, tops. One night, my clothes were in the wash, and I was looking for something to wear. Gray noticed and gave me the T-shirt. I refused at first, being the proud little shit that I was, and in typical Gray fashion, he told me to get over myself and take the damn shirt.”

“And you still have it?” I state the obvious.

“Wouldn’t get rid of it for the world.”

My heart cracks down the middle.

I comb through his dresser for a pair of sweatpants before changing the subject. “Can you close your eyes while I get dressed?”

His scoff is my answer. “My face was between your legs five minutes ago, but you’re embarrassed to change in front of me?”

I hold my own. “Yes.”

“Fine. But just so you know, I intend to have every inch of your flawless fucking body committed to memory by next week.”

My cheeks flush.

“Eyes, mister!”

He lets out a deep, breathy laugh but complies. I get dressed as fast as I can and excuse myself to the bathroom.

By the time I come back, Kane has his eyes closed, but he’s covered himself with the bedsheet. It sits a few inches below his Adonis belt, his sculpted and tattooed body on display. I glance at the door, wondering if I could get away with sneaking off to my room while he’s asleep.

I start to walk away, but his voice cuts through the air. “Don’t even think about it.”

I look in his direction to see him staring at me with the most adorable smile on his face.

I wrestle a grin and amble toward the bed with the blanket balled up in my hand. I climb in right next to him, but he doesn’t let me pull the duvet over the two of us, immediately pulling me into his arms.

Kane presses his chest to my back, spooning me so tightly our bodies fit together like two pieces of a puzzle. His breath fans my skin as he buries his nose in the crook of my shoulder. I reach for the lamp on the nightstand and turn the lights off, for good this time.

Kane rests his chin on my shoulder, his breath skittering down my cheek. “Drea told me you opened a store.”

I can’t explain how nervous I feel when I realize he’s probably visited my website and gone through all of my paintings. “Oh, um… yeah.”

Kane drags his lips against the side of my neck, resting a gentle kiss below my jaw, and I shudder in his arms.

This is starting to freak me out.

All of this… cuddling with him… sleeping in his bed…

It feels… intimate.

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