Page 38 of Keep Me Close
That’s exactly what’s needed here. Something bitter and strong that will cut through the haze in my brain.
I lean against the counter while it brews and drag a hand through my hair, trying to talk myself down from the ledge. This is a temporary situation. Once her ex gets the message and backs off, we can end this charade and go our separate ways. I’ll see her once or twice a year, at most. Maybe then I’ll finally be able to stop thinking about her so damn much.
With a scowl, I take a long swallow of coffee as soon as it’s ready. And swear under my breath as it burns the entire way down. Every muscle goes rigid when a door opens down the hall. I glance up just as Cheyenne steps into the kitchen.
Fuck.
She’s wearing black yoga pants and an oversized sweatshirt that slips off one shoulder. Her hair is pulled back into a messy ponytail and her face is bare of makeup as the lingering softness of sleep clings to her features.
The sight of her shouldn’t hit me like a gut punch.
Early sunlight touches her face, and my stomach plummets like I’ve just stepped off the edge of a building, falling a hundred stories to the ground.
“Morning,” she says.
Her tone is careful. It’s not cold or even awkward. Just… careful. Like she’s tiptoeing through a minefield, afraid one wrong step will blow everything apart.
Is she remembering what happened on the couch?
Did she spend all night tossing and turning, obsessing about that damn kiss the way I did?
My gaze drops to her lips before I can think better of it. They’re full, pink, and slightly parted.
I jerk my attention away before she catches me staring.
“Morning,” I mutter.
Silence stretches between us. It’s not long. Maybe two seconds. Three at the most. But it’s loaded. Heavy with everything neither one of us is willing to voice out loud.
Chey crosses to the fridge and reaches in for a water bottle. The sweatshirt shifts with every movement, riding up just enough to expose the narrow strip of skin at her waist.
It’s impossible not to stare. “You’re up early,” I force myself to say, trying and failing to sound like my normal self.
She twists off the cap and takes a drink before glancing at me. “I’m going for a run.”
“Alone?”
Her brows lift. “That was the plan.”
I set my mug on the counter with a thud. “I’ll come with you.”
A small laugh slips from her. “Knox, you don’t have to do that.”
“Yeah, I do.”
She studies me for a second. “You actually want to run?”
My face scrunches. “Fuck no.”
That response startles a smile out of her that’s quick and unguarded. My chest tightens at the sight.
She tips her head. “Then why bother?”
“Because your safety is my number one priority.”
Her gaze flicks over my face. “Are you absolutely sure? You don’t look like you slept well.”
“I slept just fine,” I grumble.
