I’m not opposed to either, as long as he’s touching me.
I part my legs, making room for his thigh, and when it brushes against my dick, I nearly lose it.
Yes, fuck yes.
I wonder what he’s thinking. If this means he’s forgiven me.Fuck, I hope so.
His hand slides under my jaw, tilting my head to the side. I stop breathing, ready to feel his lips—
But then the front door slams open.
We break apart instantly, fumbling to opposite sides of the kitchen.
“Sorry, forgot my water bottle—” One of the crew members, Nick, jogs in, oblivious. I grab the broom and sweep like nothing happened. Brad,conveniently turned to the corner, picks up the water bottle from beside him and hands it over.
“No worries. Here you go,” he says, voice rough, still not meeting Nick’s eyes.
“Thanks,” Nick says, awkwardly making his way out of the kitchen.
“See ya!” I call out after him.
Laughing it off, I turn towards Brad.
“That was close—”
“We should go,” he says quietly, still not looking at me.
My smile falls from my face. He’s in his head. Overthinking. It’s what he does.
“Nick didn’t see anything,” I say softly.
His back stiffens before he walks past me stiffly.
“There wasn’t anything to see,” he mutters, cold and distant as he heads for the door.
Great. Perfect. Back to hating me.Fucking amazing.
I follow him out to the truck and slide in, every bit of me noticing how hard he slams the door behind him.
Brad doesn’t look at me when he starts up the engine. Doesn’t speak. But I see it—the way his knuckles whiten around the steering wheel, like there’s something stuck in his throat he doesn’t know how to say.
“Noah, you can’t just…” He drags a hand down his face, like he’s trying to wipe the last ten minutes off with it. “We can’t… This is my job. You can’t just…walk in and—”
“And what, Brad?” I cut him off, sharp. I want him to say it. To stop dancing around it and finally admit what we both know has been simmering since I got back.
My eyes lock on him as I wait.
He doesn’t say anything. But I see it. The regret etched into the tight line of his jaw. The panic that flickered across his face in the kitchen when he almost let himself go. This isn’t about work. It’s aboutme. About his control slipping and us sliding right back to where we were in that tent out in the middle of the woods. Yet again, he wants me…and hates himself for it.
Maybe he thinks I came here just to fuck everything up for him. Maybe part of me did. But I didn’t come here toruinhim.
He turns back to the windshield, jaw clenched. “Nothing.”
I let out a bitter laugh. “Right.Of course.Nothing.” I snap my seatbelt into place with more force than necessary.
If he’s not ready to talk about it, then fine.
ButI’m not done pulling it out of him. I’m just getting started.
