“It’s late. Let’s go to bed,” Izzy says. And suddenly the air around us is shifting again.
I can’t help the slow smirk that touches my lips. “Just to be clear, I’m a gentleman and I won’t be taking advantage after inviting you to spend the night.”
Izzy rolls her eyes. “Just to be clear, Sullivan, that’s not what I meant.”
“Yeah, but I’m growing on you, aren’t I?” I tease.
Her eyes narrow, but there’s amusement dancing in them too. “You’re barely tolerable, I suppose.”
“Tolerable?” I place a hand over my chest like she’s wounded me. “That’s what I get for rescuing your ass from a roof? High praise.”
“Don’t get used to it, Sullivan.” She smiles. “And for the record—I’m no damsel in distress who needs rescuing.”
I stand and cross to the stove, grabbing the cocoa pot and leaning over her as I top up her mug. I’m so close I can smell the soap from the shower on her skin. I pause for a moment, feeling the heat between us before dropping my voice to a low murmur, my lips a whisper from her ear. “And I’m no knight in shining armor.” I step back, and despite all my resolve, I can’t stop my eyes from dragging to her lips. “You may not be a damsel in distress, but you might be trouble, Brooks.”
Her smile widens. “And you might like that.”
The air feels charged, like anything could happen. If we let it. “Come on,” I say before I can change my mind. “I’ll show you where you’re sleeping.”
I lead her upstairs to Chase’s room. It hasn’t changed much since he left for college—it’s a shrine to his teen years, completewith Stormhawks flags on the walls and matching bedcovers. I flick on the light and Izzy laughs as she takes it in.
“Just be glad Chase doesn’t have a life-sized cutout of himself in here,” I say, leaning against the doorframe.
Izzy turns to face me and in a blink the tension is back. Her lips part, and I catch a flicker of want in her expression that lights a fire inside me.
“Quit looking at me like that, Brooks. I meant what I said. I didn’t rescue you to take?—”
“I know.” She flashes me a teasing smile. “You don’t want to take advantage. Such a gentleman,” she says like I’m anything but. “What if I want to take advantage of you?”
“Not gonna happen,” I reply, trying to ignore the raging hard-on growing in my shorts and the challenge in her eyes. “It’s late,” I remind her. “And you’ve been working nonstop for weeks. Take tomorrow off,” I add, trying to steer the conversation back to safer territory before I lose the last shred of my willpower. “Have a rest before Mad arrives. I can handle the horses.”
Izzy opens her mouth, ready to fight, but I give a warning noise in my throat. “Do you ever not argue?”
She takes a slow step closer and my mind flashes to the driveway after Quicksilver was born, and to the paddock earlier, to every near-miss and almost-touch this week that’s left me feeling like we’re on the edge of something dangerous and inevitable.
I shut down the voice in my head telling me this is a bad idea, and without a word, I take the mug from her hands and set it gently on the floor.
“I wasn’t done with that,” she says, but she doesn’t stop me.
When I look into her eyes, they are dark with need. Slowly, I reach up and cup her face in my hands. I hover my lips a whisperfrom hers, wondering if I’m about to make the biggest mistake. Or maybe my best one yet…
TWENTY-TWO
IZZY
The moment Dylan’s lips touch mine, the world disappears and it’s only us. This moment. This kiss. It’s slow, and filled with a quiet intensity that makes my heart hammer in my chest so loud I swear Dylan is going to pull back and check I’m OK. But he just keeps kissing me. It’s no frantic collision like the moment in the bar, but I’m still completely undone, my body on fire with the want pooling in my core and between my legs.
Every nerve ending feels charged. I’m desperate for his hands to roam over my body, down into the borrowed shorts that are barely staying up. My nipples pebble against the fabric of his plain white tee, willing his mouth to drop down to them. But his hands don’t move from where they cup my face and his lips stay on mine. I wrap my arms around his neck, my fingers tangling in his hair as his beard rasps against my skin and our kiss deepens. I lose myself. Lose all sense of time as my tongue meets his with every stroke.
When he finally pulls back, I’m gasping for breath and trembling for more. He stays close, brow furrowing like he’s warring with himself.
“Don’t stop,” I whisper.
He smiles, shaking his head at me. “Get some sleep, Brooks.” His thumb brushes over my cheek a final time, lingering there for a second more before he turns and disappears into the hallway.
I heave out a breath, aware of how my head is spinning and my knees are weak.
“Get some sleep?” I murmur to myself.
