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Rhett nodded. “Yeah. I just… I don’t wanna be alone right now.”

I settled back down onto the mattress beside him, the springs creaking under my weight. The bed wasn’t huge, but it wasn’t tiny either. Still, with both of us on it, there wasn’t much space between us. I could feel the warmth radiating off Rhett’s body, and I found myself grateful for it in the cold of that little apartment.

“Alright,” I said, keeping my voice low as I kicked off my boots. “Scoot over then.”

He did, moving closer to the wall to give me room. I kicked off my boots and pulled the blanket up over both of us. It wasn’t much more than a thin quilt that smelled like mothballs and Dolly’s lavender detergent. But it was warmer than anything we’d had at the creek.

For a while, we just lay there in the dark, listening to the occasional car pass by on the street below and the hum of the refrigerator in the kitchenette. I could hear Rhett’s breathing start to even out, becoming slower and deeper. My own exhaustion was catching up with me now that we were somewhere warm where he felt safe.

“Westley?” His voice came out soft in the darkness.

“Yeah?”

“I’m scared,” he admitted, and I could hear the vulnerability in those three words. “I’m real scared about what happens when I finally tell you.”

I turned my head toward him, though I couldn’t see much more than his silhouette in the darkness. Without thinking too hard about it, I reached over and wrapped my arm around his shoulders, pulling him close to me. His skin was still cold from being outside, but it warmed quickly under my touch.

“Whatever it is,” I said, “we’ll figure it out. Together.”

He snuggled closer, and I felt a small wave of happiness wash over me. Being best friends was one thing, but physical contact with Rhett always made my stomach do a little flip. I figured it was because he was the only person I could do this with. Even Jennifer said something about real men not needing things like that. She had a lot of rules when it came to how men should act, her and my daddy.

But none of that mattered with Rhett. We were just best friends. Always had been. And we showed that we cared for one another without worrying about what other people might think. I just wished I knew what I could do or say to stop him from hurting too.

“Just sleep,” I murmured. “We can talk about everything in the morning.”

I felt him nod against the pillow, his body slowly going slack against mine as he fell asleep. But I stayed awake a while longer, my mind churning with questions I didn’t have answers to. Whatever secret Rhett had been keeping, whatever truth he was struggling to tell me… It was big enough to shake him to his core.

But things would look better in the light of day. The night had a way of making problems seem bigger than they were. With a good night’s sleep and a belly full of Dolly’s good cooking, everything would be better. I was sure of it.

Chapter 5

Rhett

Iwoke up with Westley’s chest pressed against my back, his breathing deep and even against the nape of my neck. He had an arm draped over my waist, his fingers splayed across my belly. Somewhere in the night he must’ve shifted, searching for warmth in his sleep.

And that wasn’t the only thing searching for warmth.

I couldn’t help but suck in a sharp breath as I felt the pulse of his cock against my ass. We were both still wearing our jeans, but that did nothing to hide the feeling of his thick shaft practically sandwiched between my cheeks.

My heart hammered against my ribs as I lay there, completely still, hardly daring to breathe. Every muscle in my body had gone rigid, caught between the warring urges to stay exactly where I was and to bolt from the bed like my ass was on fire.

This wasn’t the first time I’d woken up like this with Westley. Over the years, there’d been plenty of nights where we’d fallen asleep close enough that our bodies found each other in the dark. But it had never been like this before. Usually he had a leg thrown over mine or an arm, but never his cock against my ass. And he was so hard, insistent, and throbbing against me with a rhythm that matched his sleeping breaths.

I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to think about anything else, cattle prices, fence repairs, the weather forecast, but my body wasn’t having it. How could I resist him? Heat pooled low in my belly, and I could feel my own cock stirring in my jeans, responding to him without my permission.

Westley shifted slightly, his arm tightening around my waist, and a low sound rumbled from his chest, something between a sigh and a groan. His hips pressed forward just a fraction of an inch, and I nearly bit through my lower lip trying to keep from making a sound.

I needed to move. I should move. Every ounce of sense I had left was screaming at me to ease out from under his arm and put some distance between us before he woke up and realized what was happening. Before he realized that what I wanted most in the world was to pull my jeans down and let him have his way with me.

But I couldn’t make myself move.

Instead, I lay there like a coward, letting myself pretend for just a few more seconds that this was something he wanted. That this wasn’t just his sleeping body reacting to warmth and proximity. That maybe, just maybe, he felt even a fraction of what I felt for him.

The thought made my heart ache.

Finally, with more willpower than I thought I could ever possess, I carefully shifted my weight and eased myself out from under his arm. Westley made a small noise of protest in his sleep, his hand reaching out like he was trying to find me again, but he didn’t wake. I held my breath, waiting to see if his eyes would open, if he’d catch me in the act of leaving with my jeans tented obviously in the early morning light.

But he didn’t.