He kissed me again, slower this time—calmer, not frantic, not desperate—just warm and intimate, enough to make me forget once more that we weren’t alone in the world, just hidden from it for a moment.
When we broke apart, he kept his forehead against mine. “You can’t start picking me up from work every night.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’ll get used to it.”
I glanced at him for a moment, then gently touched his face. “Maybe that wouldn’t be the worst thing.”
“Maybe.”
We sat there a bit before I stood up and offered my hand. “Come on.”
He took it, let me help him up off the blanket, then watched as I shook it out and folded it. He put on the helmet and climbed behind me, and when his arms wrapped around my waist again, it felt even better than the first time.
20
Keaton
It was unbearablyhot when I woke up. Not just from the blankets or the fact that I slept like a furnace, but from the weight pressed against my back and the slow, steady breath ghosting over my shoulder.
It still felt a little unreal waking up with Rowan in my bed. Sure, I’d snuck into his room hundreds of times growing up, but this was different.
Okay, maybe it wasn’t that different. We were still sneaking around and not telling anyone we were together, but what we had now felt stronger than anything before. And I truly believed we could make a relationship work.
I rolled a little to try to crawl out of bed without him noticing, but he immediately pulled me back against him as if he wasn’t ready to let go yet.
“You’re awake,” he mumbled, his voice rough from sleep.
“Unfortunately.” I turned onto my back, and his arm slid with me, draping across my stomach. He blinked down at me, his hair a mess and eyes still heavy.
I took him in for a second. God, I liked this version of him. No walls. No tension. No history sitting between us like a loaded gun.
“Do you realize we’ve spent exactly zero time in your bed since you moved in?”
He smirked. “That’s because yours is better.”
I snorted. “You’ve been here a couple of weeks and have practically taken over my bedroom.”
“Can you blame me?” he asked, shifting closer, his knee sliding between mine. “It’s comfortable.”
“Or you’re just obsessed with me,” I teased.
“That too.” He didn’t even attempt to argue.
I let out a laugh, but it quickly faded as I looked at him again.
Because the truth was, I didn’t mind him being in my space. There was a time when sleeping in the same room as him was the only thing that made the rest of my life feel manageable. Back then, my parents didn’t give me a home where I felt safe, so I had to find it elsewhere.
Rowan had been that place for me.
My life wasn’t like that anymore. It wasn’t perfect, but it was free of constant fighting and toxicity. That didn’t mean I didn’t still appreciate the comfort I found in the man next to me.
I shook my head, trying to stop my brain from spiraling too far down that road. I squeezed his leg. “You keep this up, and I’m gonna start thinking you actually like me.”
His hand brushed along my side. “Haven’t I made that pretty damn clear by now?”
My breath hitched. “I might need a reminder.”
