I shake my head. We’ve been making fun of it more than anything.
A smile pools in his voice when he asks, “Is it because you’re tired?”
“Wide awake, actually.”
“What is it, then?” His hand splays wider on my thigh, like he already knows the answer.
Leaning a bit, I turn my head to look up at him. Flashes of light from the screen dance over his features, but he’s not watching the movie at all.
“What is it, then?” he repeats, his smirk full of challenge.
I take the bait. It’s now or never, and my body is definitely screamingnow.
My attention dips to his lips. “What if we...” I swallow and work up the nerve to blurt, “What if we did more than kissing?”
His smirk hitches wider. “What if?”
I turn a little farther. A sudden surge of shyness threatens to hold me back, but I push on. “It could be something like the friends-with-benefits thing you had in Oregon. What did you say? ‘No guilt, no emotions’? We could do that.” I think. I’ve never done it before, but this is Theo. Itrust him. “Responsibly, of course. We’d have rules.”
Something seems to shift behind his expression as he searches my face. “What sort of rules do you have in mind?” One hand spans my jaw while the other slips under my hoodie to curve around my waist.
I feel so held, cradled against him, that my body relaxes. I’m finding it hard to evenwantto set rules. My instincts are screaming to just go with the flow here, but I’ve learned those bitches don’t know what they’re talking about.
“Fable.” My name is soft but precise. “Rules?”
“Right.” I clear my throat. “Um. No sleepovers.” That seems good. Smart. Idon’t know if I could handle seeing him in my bed again—with sleepy eyes and mussed hair and pillow creases on his cheeks.
“All right.” The fingers on my waist swirl slow circles against my skin. “What else?”
“I’m not sure. Ican’t think with your fingers doing that.” They pause. “Don’t stop though.”
His grin is hot and predatory as he starts again. “Yes, ma’am.”
“So, no guilt, no emotions, no sleepovers?” I ask, my breath hitching when his fingers graze the waistband of my sweats.
His gaze dips to watch his thumb trace my lower lip. “And no more flirting with other people.”
“A little possessive,” I tease.
His sigh borders on a growl. “Yeah,” he admits, not looking ashamed in the slightest, and that’s okay. I’m feeling a little possessive over him right now too. If this is the only time I get with him, I’m going to be greedy about it.
Tense music echoes from the movie, and I tilt my head toward the screen. Theo seizes the opportunity to readjust us, spreading his legs a little and letting me lean farther against him.
“Do we have a deal?” he murmurs, voice low and husky.
“Yes.” My heart races, and I’m not sure if it’s from the movie or Theo.
“Then you just keep watching that movie, sweetheart.”
Which is the most absurd request, because he has a hand on my waist and one on my upper thigh, and I don’t know how I could concentrate on anything else. Ithink he must know that, though, because he tortures me by just continuing those slow circles on my stomach.
It seems like a subconscious movement, but it turns me to wildfire. I’m focused on every breath he takes, every warm pad of his fingers on my waist, every millimeter of space his hand covers on my thigh. Even through the thick fabric of my sweatpants, I can feel the heat of his palm there.
I fidget and wriggle, begging him for more. “Theo,” I whisper.
“Fable.” He sounds steady, unconcerned.
It’s annoying. “I need...” I start to sit up, but he holds me firmly in place.
