Page 65 of Keep Me Close

“I don’t care about this.” I gesture toward the bruise. “It’s nothing.”

Guilt, regret, and something else I’m unable to name flash across her expression.

“I can handle Dakota,” I continue.

What I don’t mention is how much I want her. How she drives me crazy. Or how no other woman has tempted me the way she does.

My hand tightens at her back when she shifts. “What you’re not going to do is run back to LA and hide. You’re going to stay in Chicago and live your life.”

Her throat works. “That’s not⁠—”

“Yeah, that’s exactly what it would be because he’s not giving you a choice.”

Silvery moonlight spills through the windows behind her. She looks so damn beautiful sitting on my lap, all soft skin and messy hair and that stubborn tilt to her chin.

She wants to run and make a clean break. To put distance between us so she can pretend none of this matters. But it matters to me. The idea of her going back to California, where I can’t see her in the morning, make sure she gets home safely at night, or be there if something goes wrong…

It’s enough to send panic crawling down my spine.

I lift my chin and meet her eyes. “I’ll be the one who keeps you safe. Not your family or security. Me.”

The words hang between us, possessive as hell. I hear them for what they are, and I’ll be damned if I take them back.

Surprise flickers across her face before her gaze drops to my bruise and then dips lower to my mouth. Her breathing hitches, and the air between us turns electric.

My attention settles on her lips.

Christ.

I want to taste her again so badly I can barely think straight. Is her mouth as soft as I remember? Would I be able to coax another sound from her as my lips rove over hers? Would she cling to me as if she’s afraid I’ll disappear?

My hand flexes at her waist, fingers digging in just enough to make her inhale before I force them to loosen.

Here’s what I know—if I kiss her right now, there’s no turning back. The first kiss was practice. The second was for show, to convince everyone we’re together. A third, alone together in the dark of night, would be something else entirely.

There’d be no pretending this thing between us is harmless anymore.

No pretending I’m not already in too deep.

I drag my gaze back to her eyes, and it takes every ounce of control I have to keep my voice steady. “We should probably get some sleep.”

She blinks, as if surfacing from somewhere deep.

My pulse pounds in my ears as she shifts on my lap, sliding against me. The movement is enough to make my jaw lock. I swear under my breath, helping her to her feet before I do something I’ll regret. I’m not thinking clearly, and my hands linger at her hips a second too long before I force myself to let go.

We walk down the hallway, and the silence that settles around us isn’t awkward. It’s loaded and on the verge of combusting. When we reach her door, she turns to me. Her lashes cast faint shadows against her cheeks as I brace one hand on the frame above her head, needing something solid to hold on to.

“Good night,” she whispers.

My mouth turns cottony. “Night, Chey.”

She lifts her hand, and her fingers slide along my cheek with a featherlight touch. I’m pretty sure it does far more damage than any kiss would’ve. I freeze, and it’s so damn tempting to lean into her palm, but I know exactly what will happen if I do. Disappointment and longing flood through me when her hand falls away and she slips into her room.

The door closes between us.

For a second, I stand here before leaning forward and resting my forehead against the molding, forcing myself to exhale.

I want this woman so much it hurts.