Page 410 of Ruthless Court

The first time I did it, Kane looked down at our joined hands, then at me.

He didn’t say anything.

Which was smart.

His grin said enough.

* * *

The fall settles into a rhythm.

Classes.

Coaching.

Kane.

Repeat.

Sometimes Briar.

Mostly his place.

This is not because I have abandoned my roommates.

It is because Kane has a private bedroom, a king-size bed, blackout curtains, his own bathroom, and roommates who leave before sunrise for practice.

Briar has three women in one room, a radiator with anger issues, and Lila, who believes sleeping after nine in the morning is a moral failure.

I am making a rational housing decision.

That is all.

Kane disagrees.

“You like sleeping with me.”

“I like your mattress.”

“You spoon me.”

“The mattress does not generate body heat.”

“You kiss me before bed.”

“That’s unrelated.”

“You stole my pillow.”

“It has better support.”

He usually shuts up when I kiss him again.

Also useful.

We still haven’t had sex.

We’ve gotten close.