Page 39

She shifts closer, careful of her knee, and I settle an arm along the back of the couch.

For a minute, we just sit there.

Fire crackling.

Wind moving through the trees outside.

Her shoulder brushes mine.

Then she moves closer again.

I lift my arm.

She tucks herself against my side like she's been doing it for years.

Something in my chest pulls tight.

Her soft curves press against me, and my arm tightens around her.

I'm getting hard again just from having her tucked against me.

Pathetic fucking state of affairs.

"Comfortable?" I ask.

"Very."

Lucky her.

"Good."

She rests her head against my shoulder.

I look down at the top of her head.

Smells like shampoo.

Something sweet.

I want to bury my face in it.

Instead, I stare at the fire like it personally offended me.

She lifts her head, her cheek brushing my jaw.

I turn toward her.

Bad fucking idea.

Her eyes drop to my mouth.

Mine are already on hers.

Then my phone rings.

Motherfucker.

I stare at the ceiling.