Page 107 of The Score

Chapter 34

Bear

I cling to Pen. One hand on her face, the other on her thigh, and I hope that if I clench my jaw hard enough, she won't notice the way my heart drums in its vault.

Her lips part. Her eyes become hooded. She takes shallow breaths. My body responds to it, like it knows the language of everything she hasn't said.

Romance may not be anywhere near her mind, but she's feelingsomething, and I can't look away.

She grips my wrist harder than ever. "Is this the one thing where you can't look at me and instantly know?"

Her voice sounds breathy, with threads of vulnerability knotted through it.

"You're getting it wrong, Pen," I rasp. "I can see the signs. But it doesn't mean you want me to do something about it."

That's why I insisted she tell me what she wanted this morning. When she pushed her delicious, generous ass against me, it felt like a question. The kind only I could answer. I couldn't look away then, either. But after weeks of wakingup with her in my arms, I didn't trust my instincts. Every morning, I've had to fight with myself not to touch her.

When she said she needed us to do what we did together, I lost it. I gave into what she wanted from me and was rewarded for it.

I got to learn her taste. God, her taste. I can't get it out of my head.

She licks her lip. "I thought you'd understand from this morning that— yeah. I want you to do something about it."

"Tell me and I'll do it." I squeeze her thigh again.

The problem with what we did this morning is that I didn't get to touch her. Not properly. Now I'm the one in need. I crave more of her taste, and to hear her moaning and demanding more of me. I covet the chance to run my tongue all over her after she comes from my mouth, and to learn what color her nipples are, and what name she will call me as I enter her… my heart be damned.

We keep our voices for each other alone. We're still in our own world, with our friends at my back distracted by their own conversation.

A wrinkle appears between Pen's brows. "Will you? Because this isn't what we do. But we're sharing a room, and a bed, and my clothes smell like yours these days, and there's only so much I can do before I start sniffing my shirt so I get another hit of you."

"Pen…"

I want to tell her I feel the same way. That having barred my heart from joining, all I'm left with is this yearning for things we've never done before. Not together. Not to one another.

Except she interrupts me.

"Bear. None of that means we should do something about it. I want to— it should be evident— but it can't ruin things. We can't risk everything for simple biology. This is us."

I grind my teeth. She's right. Nevermind that what we did felt needed. If we can't find a way to do this without risking what we have, then we have to find a way to put it behind us. What our bodies have to say about it doesn't matter.

Until I get a chance to cut into my heart with a surgeon's precision, before I stitch it back into proper shape again, all I will have is my mind. My reason. Logic will be our friend.

"If you're feeling these things," I say, "we'll find a way."

"Do you feel it too?"

Maybe there's room for my body, after all. As long as it's measured. Controlled.

There has to be a way.

I lean forward until our foreheads touch. "It's the only thing I know for sure, Pen. How much I want this with you right now. How much I need this with you."

She sighs. I let my head drop, until we're cheek to cheek.

I take a deep breath. "I may be breaking, I need you so much."

"Leon…"