Page 149 of P.S. I'm Still Yours

Maybe more intimate than actually getting intimate with him.

I’ve had my fair share of meaningless hookups with guys before—that’s pretty much all I allowed myself to have after Gray died—but this moment feels significant.

He brings my focus back to him. “I went through your paintings.”

“And?

“Your work is fucking incredible.”

My smile takes up my whole face. “Thank you. I’m hoping to sell enough to pay you back for all those supplies.”

He lets out an annoyed growl. “I told you I don’t care.”

“And I told you I’m not a charity case,” I counter.

He pushes on my stomach to press my body even tighter against his, and I feel his cock prod the crease of my ass.

He makes a disgruntled noise, slipping his fingers under my T-shirt. “Goddamn, you’re stubborn.”

I rub myself against the bulge in his pants. “You’re just figuring that out now?”

“Sleep, baby,” he warns, his fingertips digging into my hip bone and holding me steady as if to stop me from teasing him.

I’m quick to comply, letting the exhaustion take my body under and closing my eyes.

I spent all night wondering if this was just sexual.

But a guy who only wants sex doesn’t call you baby.

He doesn’t make you come twice without asking for anything in return.

He doesn’t kiss your jaw or tell you you’re not allowed to leave his bed.

I think this might be more.

The question is, can my heart handle it?

* * *

“Hey, asshole, we have to leave in… Shit, I’m sorry!”

My senses blur together when I peel my eyes open, confusion making my thoughts foggy.

It takes my brain a few seconds to catch on, the previous night’s events coming back to me from the moment I take in my surroundings.

I’m in Kane’s bed.

The first thing I notice is the veined forearm firmly wrapped around my waist. I cast a glance over my shoulder and find Kane sleeping like a baby. He’s still spooning me. We haven’t moved an inch since last night.

“I didn’t know you were with… someone.” Drea’s voice snaps me out of it, and I look up, immediately spotting her by the doorway.

She’s staring at us with her mouth agape, her shocked expression morphing into a knowingsmirk as soon as we make eye contact.

On autopilot, I pick Kane’s arm off my body—as though that’s magically going to erase what Drea saw—and drop it at his side. Only then does he come to, stirring next to me.

“Drea? What the fuck are you doing here?” Kane’s tired voice carries across the room.

“Just wanted to make sure you were awake. We have to leave in an hour.”

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