Chapter 30
The first thing I noticed was the pain.
My back was a war zone. My neck was worse. One leg was half-numb, my arm was pinned, and something sharp was definitely lodged under my shoulder blade. Hardwood floors were not built for men in their late thirties, no matter how stupidly romantic the reason.
I groaned — barely — the sound small and low. My other arm shifted instinctively, pulling her in closer.
Her.
Juniper.
Still curled against me like a secret. Still asleep, tucked under my chin, the edges of my sweatshirt swallowed up in her fists.
My hand rested just below her ribs. I could feel the slow rise and fall of her breathing.
She smelled of sleep and warmth and… I wanted to stay right here for the rest of my life.
God. Fuck.
I’d meant just to check on her. That was all. A blanket, maybe. A pillow. She’d dozed off, and I couldn’t make myself leave. I couldn’t imagine a world where I left her asleep on the floor, alone.
So I sat down beside her. Just for a second.
And then she sort of… leaned into me in her sleep — like she knew it was me, like she trusted me — and I was a goner.
But wow, in the watery light of early morning, with the ground aching under my spine and my heart somehow aching worse; I let my eyes flutter open.
She was still here.
She hadn’t left me.
I swallowed hard and pressed the lightest kiss to her hair. Just once. Just a breath.
You idiot.
You idiot, you idiot, you idiot.
“Fuck,” I whispered into her curls. “I’m too old to be sleeping on the goddamn floor.”
She stirred.
Not much, not at first. Just a soft noise in the back of her throat, a tiny exhale as she burrowed in closer. And me? I broke a little.
There were a hundred things I wanted to say. That she was beautiful like this. That I would willingly sleep on a thousand floors if it meant waking up with her. That she could take every piece of me and I’d still offer more.
But her breathing was steady. And the moment was fragile.
So I stayed quiet. Stayed still.
“Hey, cowboy?” She whispered, and I thought my heart was going to burst from my chest.
“What’s up, kid?” My arms tightened around her, just a fraction. If she was about to ask me to let her go… I was going to hold her as closely as I could.
“Why are we on the floor?” She giggled, turning towards me.
She giggled.
Fuck me.
“You were sleeping so soundly, I didn’t want to disturb you. Plus… you might have been drooling. Couldn’t risk it.”
A flush crept over her cheeks, sweet and slow. Her mouth tilted into a sleepy smile.
And my entire world narrowed to that smile. From the way her knee brushed mine, to the bare inches between us. To her lips — parted, pink, so close — and the aching temptation to close the distance.
My god I could kiss her. Right now. Right here.
And she might even let me.
I didn’t move. I didn’t breathe. I just watched her, as if she might vanish. “Ansel,” she said softly, blinking up at me.
“Yeah?”
Her gaze dipped to my mouth.
I swear the earth shifted. But all she said was, “I’m stealing the blanket.” And just like that, she rolled away, tugging half the throw with her.
“Oh, absolutely not.”
She shrieked when I lunged after her. Not a real scream — that soft, delighted sound people make when they’re not scared at all. She kicked weakly, already giggling as I caught the edge of the throw and yanked it back.
“Give it,” I growled, low in my throat, eyes narrowing as I sat up slowly, trying to look scarier than I felt.
She curled tighter, clinging to it. “No.” Her grin was wide.
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
“You’re gonna regret that.”
“No, I won’t — hey!”
I had her pinned in two seconds flat — one hand on the blanket, the other braced beside her head. I wasn’t really holding her down, but she wasn’t trying that hard to escape, either.
Her breath caught.
So did mine.
The laugh died on her lips as I leaned in. Not all the way — just close enough for her eyes to drop to my mouth again. Close enough to feel the heat crackling between us.
“You wanna try that again?” I breathed. “Don’t think you stand a chance, sweetheart.”
“I stand by it,” she whispered. Her voice was barely a sound. I could have sworn her back arched… just a little bit.
God.
She was beautiful like this. Flushed. Breathless. Just a little cocky and a little scared. This was a moment I should have photographed and saved.
Forever.
“You’re playing a dangerous game, kid,” I murmured, my lips just barely a breath away from hers.
“And what happens if I win?” An eyebrow quirked, her grin grew sly. Her hand slid up my chest, my breath caught again. “Ansel?” She practically purred. That sound should not have been legal.
I was going to hell. I was already halfway there.
My pulse thundered in my ears as I stared down at her — eyes bright, lips parted, pupils blown wide. The heat between us was alive. I could feel it coiling low in my stomach, buzzing beneath my skin.
She was so close.
And if I kissed her — if I just leaned in —
But I didn’t. I couldn’t.
Not yet. Not like this.
God, did I want to. Across her jaw, over that tantalizing pulse point where I just knew her heartbeat was fluttering in her chest. Nipping her skin, nuzzling into the curve of her throat.
“Careful,” I managed, my voice wrecked as I pulled my thoughts to cleaner pastures. “Keep talking like that, and you’ll find out.”
She shivered. I felt it — the way her fingers curled tighter against my skin. The way her hips shifted just barely under mine. Just enough to kill me.
“I might want to,” she said. Too soft. Too bold. Too honest.
Fuck.
I dropped my head into the crook of her neck, letting my nose skim along her throat. Her skin was warm, pulse rapid. I didn’t kiss her. I didn’t dare. But I breathed her in like she was air and I was drowning.
“You’re gonna be the death of me,” I muttered.
“Don’t be dramatic.”
I lifted my head, just enough to meet her eyes again. And smiled — slow and dangerous. “Oh, sweetheart,” I said, “you have no idea.”
She wriggled a bit beneath me, panting in my ear.
I couldn’t help it. I leaned closer, letting my lips ghost along her jaw, not quite touching. And then — somehow — I let her go.
Rolled off her. Tossed her the blanket with a growl of defeat.
She was still flushed. Still ruined by whatever that moment was, just like I was.
And I was already planning all the ways I wasn’t going to survive her.