And whatever this thing was between us—this fire, this bondless ache—still didn’t have a name.
Yet, in this moment, with Jay holding me steady, Roan’s presence filling the room, and Rhett being irreverent and loud just to make me smile…
For just a little longer, I let it all wait.
The new bedfelt like a dream—fresh sheets, clean blankets, soft pillows that hadn’t been tangled and soaked in the heat of bodies and scent. Someone had aired the room out, wiped down the surfaces. There were even bottles of water on the nightstand and snacks within reach.
They were taking care of me.Still.
I hadn’t realized how much I needed that until I was curled under the blankets, muscles aching in ways I didn’t want to admit, belly full for the first time in days.
Rhett lay stretched beside me, loose-limbed and lazy like a lion in the sun. One arm was tucked under his head, and the other played idly with my hair—soft strokes from crown to nape, slow and soothing. Over and over again.
It felt so good I nearly purred.
He must’ve felt it, too—some subtle change in my breathing, a little hum in my throat—because his mouth curved in a smirk I could feel without even looking.
“You’re enjoying this a little too much,” I said, trying for dry, but it came out softer.
His fingers slid down, just behind my ear, making me shiver. “Only becauseyou’reletting me.”
I arched a brow, glancing up at him. “And you think that’s aboutyou, not me?”
Rhett’s grin deepened, but when his eyes met mine, something else flickered beneath the surface.
The playfulness was still there—he wore it like armor, like instinct—but I saw the edge of something rawer behind it. A kind of focused intensity. Aneedhe didn’t know how to ask for without dressing it in jokes and charm.
And for all his alpha swagger, I could see it clearly now—he didn’t want to be brushed off. Not by me. Not after what we’d shared.
I reached up and brushed his cheek with the backs of my fingers. His stubble rasped against my skin, and his hand went still in my hair.
“Will you keep petting me?” I asked quietly.
It wasn’t a question, not really. It was my answer. My way of sayingyes. I liked it. I wanted it. Iwanted him.
Rhett made a low sound in his throat, almost a grunt—satisfied, like something in him had unclenched—and his hand resumed its slow strokes through my hair.
I smiled to myself and rolled back to my side, facing the doorway. He shifted with me, settling in again with his chest warm against my back, his breath ghosting over my shoulder.
And that was when I saw them.
Roan stood in the doorway, bare-chested, arms crossed over his chest. Watching. Always watching. Jay was just behind him, leaning in the frame, expression unreadable but warm.
They weren’t interrupting.
They weren’t assuming.
They werewaiting.
And that was what did me in.
Not the heat. Not the knots. Not even the claiming.
This.The restraint. The careful, patient way they were holding back now, like I was breakable. Like I needed space to breathe.
Maybe I did.
But I didn’t want thedistance.
