Chapter 31
Ileft her on the floor of the living room.
Then I braced both hands on the kitchen counter and let my head hang between my shoulders.
“Jesus Christ.”
She was lying on the floor of my living room. Still flushed, still breathless, still holding the blanket like she wanted me more than air.
And I had walked away.
I should’ve kissed her. I should’ve kissed her.
I was going to lose my goddamn mind.
My palms pressed harder into the countertop. I was too warm and too wired and so fucking gone for this girl I’d known all of… what? Two months? Three? Didn’t matter. She had ruined me. Absolutely, irrevocably, embarrassingly ruined.
She’d whispered my name. Purred it, practically. And I’d said —
“‘Keep talking like that, and you’ll find out,’” I muttered aloud, voice hoarse with disbelief. “Great. That’s great, man. What the fuck is wrong with you.”
Because now?
Now, I could still feel the shape of her under me. Could still smell her perfume and shampoo. Could still see her — eyes wide, lips parted, voice a whisper.
Could still see her smile.
God, I was so far gone.
I scrubbed a hand over my face and forced myself upright. Poured a glass of water with a hand that wasn’t steady. Took a sip. Didn’t taste it.
The photo lit up my phone from where it sat on the table. Still my lock screen. Still her.
Us, curled together like we belonged there. Like she was mine.
“Fucking idiot,” I whispered.
Because she wasn’t mine. She’d said she never wanted to be. She didn’t want more. This wasn’t real. It wasn’t safe. It wasn’t smart.
But I would've crawled back beside her in a heartbeat. I would’ve stayed. If she’d asked. If she’d looked at me just one more second.
I’d have given her everything.
The sound of her laughter echoed down the hallway. And I stood in the kitchen, frozen like an idiot, still holding the damn glass, while that sound just… ripped me open.
God, I was in trouble.
This wasn’t a crush. This wasn’t a fling. This wasn’t even a mistake. This was a car crash I saw coming in slow motion and never once thought to hit the brakes. Because I didn’t want to. I wanted her.
Her giggle turned into a hum. Something tuneless, quiet. She was still laying there, probably.
Was she thinking about me? About my skin on hers? About the minuscule distance between our mouths? Our bodies?
My body betrayed me. Heat pooled low, sharp and unbearable. I groaned under my breath, pressing the heel of my hand against the ache straining my boxers. Just for a second. Just to relieve the pressure before I lost my goddamn mind —
Of course she walked in then.
Of course her eyes went immediately to my hand as I cupped myself through my underwear.
“Need some help?”
I froze. Slowly — so slowly — I turned to face her.
She was there. Leaning against the doorframe, hair mussed from sleep, my hoodie swallowing her to mid-thigh. Bare legs. Bare feet. Her smile small, crooked, devastating.
“Juniper—” My voice was wrecked.
“That wasn’t a no,” she teased softly, though her eyes were shining — hesitant, but curious.
I dragged a hand down my face, half laughing, half groaning. “Jesus Christ.”
“You’re the one who said you’d make me beg for it,” she said, that grin widening just a fraction.
Oh, I was dead.
Buried.
“Go back to bed,” I rasped.
“That’s still not a no.”
My jaw clenched. I couldn’t even look at her. If I looked at her, if I let myself meet her eyes — I’d lose.
“You don’t get it.” My voice came out low, rough, desperate.
“Then explain it to me.”
I finally looked up. She was still there. Watching me like she wanted me to.
“Because if I start — if we start —” I stepped in close enough to cage her against the doorframe, close enough for her to feel the heat radiating off me, “I’m not stopping halfway.”
She swallowed hard, chin tilting up, eyes blown wide. “Who says I want you to stop?” I shut my eyes. Groaned low in my throat. And stepped back.
“I’m not touching you,” I said, voice hoarse. “Not like that. Not until you’re sure. Until you want me to.”
Her breath hitched.
I couldn’t stay there another second. If I did, I’d ruin both of us. So I brushed past her, retreating down the hall.
Because if I stayed?
God help me.