Dropping my head, I started for the door, unsure if I was cowering or if I was just staggered
by what I’d unwittingly forced my way into. I felt like a fool. Naïve and reckless. Because I’d
come seeking something I hadn’t understood.
And I’d just stumbled into the awareness that their lives were pieced together precariously.
A tender, loving, imperfect balance.
It would only take one misstep to send everything toppling over.
I reached for the latch when I felt the flurry of intensity rise up behind me, the tension
suffocating, the movement stealing the air from the room.
I spun around, my back plastered to the door as he approached.
Coming closer and closer.
He wasn’t touching me.
But he might as well have been.
He rested a hand on the door above my head, his face dipping toward mine, his words a
breathy grunt at my ear. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing to me, Rynna?”
Lust and confusion trembled through my bones, this man pushing me away and then
drawing me closer.
I thought maybe neither of us could ignore it.
The overpowering attraction.
Because the fever in my veins ignited a fire in my belly.
No words would form on my tongue.
“Tell me, Rynna. What do you want with us?” he murmured, low and rough. “Because I don’t
have anything to offer you, and I won’t let you take anything else from us.”
I attempted to process what he said, what he meant.
But I couldn’t focus. Couldn’t see. Could feel nothing but the heat radiating between us.
Wave after blinding wave.
I gasped a breath, and he inched closer, a single knee wedging between my legs. He set
both hands on the door above my head.
Caging me in.
A desperate sound rumbled through the strength of his chest.
A hand was suddenly on my jaw, thumb under my chin, tipping my face up to meet the
ferocity in his gaze.
Rage and restraint and desire. I couldn’t decipher what was happening. The push and the
pull. The hatred and the need.
I could barely speak. “I . . . I thought maybe you could use a friend.”