Page 29 of Off the Edge

“This is crazy,” he whispered, then pulled back and peered down at me. His hair was a mess where I’d had my hands in it. Hopefully, he’d brought the Team GB hat.

I grinned. “Meeting in secret like this is very un-Hasegawa, just saying.”

“Perhaps this is exactly Hasegawa?” he suggested, eyebrows lifting.

I still had my legs around him, and his hands clutched low on my back. I wasn’t letting him go, not yet. This was too good to let go of.

His face got all serious, and his gaze flicked back and forth, his eyes reading into me. And now he’d gone all serious, my smile began to slip.

“What are we doing?” he whispered.

“Like I know?”

His mouth ticked, then he propped his chin on the top of my head and brought his arms up my back, holding me closer. Christ, it wasn’t even about sex, despite what my dick thought. Ren was damn well hugging me, like he’d been starved of contact, and it broke my heart a little to know that’s probably exactly what was going on here. I thought I’d had it bad for eighteen months. I’d had friends, family, people who cared everywhere I turned. I might have been wrong, but did Ren have anyone in his life who actually cared about him? Anyone he could talk to?

“I’m sorry . . .” he said, sounding very British suddenly.

He tried to pull away, but I held on and gave my head a shake. “Just a second more . . .”

I heard him swallow, then he melted into the hug again. There he is. The man who stopped pretending. I lifted my head off his shoulder and looked up. His soft eyes told his whole story, if you just looked past the coldness of him. I pulled him down, brushed a kiss against his lips, teasing, but testing too. He chased it, and I let him win. The kiss was softer this time, slower, gentle in a way that said all the things we didn’t know how to.

My stupid heart got all knotted and started aching, like maybe this was serious.

The kiss ended slow, same as it had begun.

I wanted to ask him if this was real? But I was so fucking afraid he’d shut down, go cold, realize I was a mistake.

If this was going to break my heart again, then I didn’t want it.

Who was I kidding?

I’d take it. I’d take anything he’d give. Ten minutes, an hour, a day like yesterday.

Damn, I had it bad for him. I didn’t think I’d survive if he walked away again.

He was right, what the fuck were we doing?

Slowly, we separated. Chests, arms, hips, and then he leaned against the desk beside me, head bowed, as though deep in thought.

“Hey.” I dropped off the desk, and leaned against it too, facing him. “We don’t have to think about any of this now. Alright? There’s the Games, and we do that, and this is . . . This is something we think about later.”

His sad little smile tucked into his cheek. He’d never been sad at the Meridian, except maybe when he’d learned I’d been taking the painkillers. But Ren carried a deep sadness with him now. It had been there from the first moment I’d seen him at the Village. He wasn’t the same man I’d danced with. A part of him was missing too, maybe just like a piece of me had been missing this whole time.

“Man, I can’t stand it when you look like that,” I said, trying to make light of it.

“Like what?” he asked.

“Sad. Don’t be sad, it kills me.”

He frowned. “My face looks sad?”

His whole body looked sad. “Yeah.” I poked a finger into his cheek, making him smile. “There. Better.”

He stole my hand and kissed my curled fingers, then unfurled them and kissed my palm, then my wrist. His cool breath fluttered against my skin. His dark-eyed gaze lifted. Every touch, every skim of his lips, tightened my chest.

“Yeah, okay . . .” I croaked, sounding rougher than I’d meant to. “If you’re going to look at me like that, it has to be behind a locked door in future.” I dropped my hand and adjusted my dick trapped in my pants, loving and hating how his gaze tracked me. Man, he was testing my restraint, which wasn’t the best on a good day.

“Maybe we should go back to that three-star hotel, huh?” I joked.