My pulse kicked.
ME: my room
CADE: door locked?
I glanced toward my bedroom door, then slid out of bed on unsteady legs to turn the lock. The tiny click sounded obscenely loud in the quiet room.
ME: yes
CADE: alone?
ME: yes
CADE: wearing my hoodie?
I looked down at myself, heat blooming across my chest.
ME: maybe
CADE: that means yes
ME: unfortunately
CADE: nothing unfortunate about you in my clothes
I let out a shaky breath, leaning back against my bedroom door with the phone clutched in both hands.
ME: you’re doing it again
CADE: Fuck yes I am
My thighs pressed together beneath the hem of his hoodie.
I hated that he knew. Hated that I wanted him to know. Hated that fighting this was becoming less about self-preservation and more about clinging to a rule that had already started cracking.
CADE: what are you doing right now?
ME: texting you
CADE: besides that
I stared at the screen.
ME: lying in bed
CADE: thinking about tonight?
ME: yes
CADE: which part?
My mouth went dry.
ME: Cade
CADE: tell me
ME: the gym
