I bite my lip hard as Isaac hastily rolls the hems, like perhaps if he does it fast enough I won’t notice.
“Not a word,” he warns as the silence stretches.
I zip my lips.
Isaac lets out a profound sigh, but his smile lingers as he grabs his toiletries bag and exits the room. While he’sgetting ready for sleep, I change and plug my phone in. I double-check my alarm before dropping onto the bed, my back against the wall.
The bathroom door opens a minute later, the telltale squeak of the hinges audible. I’m not surprised when Isaac comes back into the room with the piece of paper held in his hand.
“What is this?” he asks, showing me the paper.
I don’t need to be close enough to read it. I know exactly what it says.
Out of the endless people I’ve met.
“No clue,” I lie.
Isaac raises an eyebrow, clearly calling bullshit on that. He examines it again. “Where’s the rest?”
“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”
He presses his lips together. He’s obviously figured out it’s the start to a poem. “Fine. Keep your secrets,” he mutters, shoving the paper back in his pocket. “I can be patient.”
“Can you?”
That earns me Isaac’s fingers digging into my side. I twist, dragging him under me, trapping him and his tickling hand at the same time. His breath whooshes out of him, the position putting us nearly nose to nose, close enough to make out every flicker of blue fanning out from his irises.
The urge to lean down and fit my lips to his is overwhelming. To taste and never stop.
But I don’t dare start something we can’t finish. So I kiss his cheek instead. His jaw. He eases out a breath, his hand spasming near my stomach.
My voice is a murmur. “Careful with those fingers, Red. You know I can overpower you.”
“And yet you never would unless I allow it,” he says, confident in his assessment. A smirk lines his lips. “Off.”
I let go, shifting away until not an inch of us is touching. Isaac looks smug as he follows me, pushing me onto my back and crawling over my lap.
“See?” he says, blue eyes staring down at me. “You wouldn’t hurt me, Trevor. You couldn’t even hurt that asshat from the bar who punched you in the eye.”
“I did twist his arm harder than I needed to.”
Isaac snorts. “Such a baddie.” He slips one hand under my shirt, fingers spanning wide over my stomach. “Can I ask you something?”
“Mhm.”
His fingers brush against me for a moment before his other hand rests on my chest, Isaac’s chin propped on top. “When should I expect the next line?”
My lips twist as I realize he’s asking about the poem. “No idea what you mean.”
Isaac pinches me lightly, but before I can retaliate, he stops. He stares at me, silence stretching before he says, “Trevor?”
“Yeah?”
“You haven’t kissed me goodnight.”
I huff a gentle breath, sitting up enough that I can reach Isaac’s mouth. He mirrors the motion, sitting up with me, waiting for me to follow through on his request.
I let my gaze run from his mouth downward. “Where?”
