I looked away, unable to deny it. “It just… feels good. Coming from you.”
“Well, you better get used to it,” Cal said, tossing the cloth onto the floor. He climbed back into bed. “Because you’re mine now. Baby.”
I felt a shiver go down my spine that had nothing to do with the cold.
I automatically started to scooch toward the other side of the massive mattress. It was what we always did, separate beds, separate spaces. Even when we shared a bed, we stayed on our sides.
I felt a hand wrap around my wrist.
“Where are you going?” Cal asked.
I looked back. “Just… giving you space. Going to my side.”
Cal tugged, pulling me back toward the center. “No. Not tonight. Get back here.”
He pulled me down until I was lying on my side, then curled his body around my back. He pulled the duvet up over us, cocooning us together. He tucked his arm under my head and draped his other arm, heavy and possessive, over my waist, pulling me flush against his chest.
“Stay,” he whispered into the back of my neck.
10
MAY - LOUISVILLE, KENTUCKY
Now playing: Talking Body - Tove Lo
Ihadthreerules.
Rule #1: No touching at the airport.
Rule #2: Separate rows on the plane.
Rule #3: The Cover. Cal Kincaid was the rockstar bachelor.
That last rule? That was my idea. I scripted it. I directed it. And right now, driving down a dark stretch of I65 South leaving Indiana, I was watching it backfire.
“I’m just saying,” Evan’s voice drifted from the backseat. “If you put your feet on the dashboard one more time, Deadlock, I’m going to snap your ankles.”
I kept my eyes on the road. Since Evan got drafted toShowdownlast week, he was in our car almost every night. We were heading into Louisville for a rare off day tomorrow, no shows, no media, which meant the mood in the car was loose. Too loose.
“Don’t call me Deadlock,” Cal muttered, slouching lower. He deliberately wiggled his combat boots, leaving a scuff mark. “You’re just mad because the only action you’re getting is from the catering lady.”
“Better than your action,” Evan shot back. “I bet your idea of foreplay is a headlock.”
Cal’s eyes flicked to mine in the rearview mirror.
I bit the inside of my cheek, meeting his gaze. We exchanged a split-second look, a shared, secret urge to laugh. If only Evan knew. The things Cal did for foreplay didn’t involve headlocks; they involved patience, worship, and a mouth that could bring me to my knees.
I cleared my throat, forcing my eyes back to the road. “Can we not talk about Cal’s sex life? I’m trying to eat beef jerky.”
Evan leaned forward, squinting in the dim light. “Speaking of… is that Deadlock’s hoodie?”
I froze. I was wearing the oversized black hoodie withNO ONE LIKE USprinted in jagged letters across the back. It was Cal’s, sure. But more importantly, it was the one I had worn the day on the balcony, the day I dropped to my knees and tasted him for the first time.
“Yeah,” I said, keeping my voice even. “So?”
“You wearing his merch now?” Evan teased. “You guys are codependent. It’s weird. You gonna start painting your nails black too?”
“It’s free clothes, Evan. I wear your merch shirts to the gym all the time. What’s the issue?”
