Her lips open but then slam closed. I hop from the Jeep, and when I hear her door shut, I hit the locks. Without looking back, I climb the stairs to my apartment, hyperaware of her presence at my back. I push inside, hit the lights on, and drop my keys in the bowl.
“Make yourself at home. Grab something to sleep in.” I head to the bathroom and shut and lock the door before bracing myself over the sink and staring at my reflection in the mirror.
I could’ve killed that guy. I’ve stuck up for Axelle in the past, gotten in fights to defend her, but I’ve never been afraid like I was tonight.
This shit between us has to stop. It’s built to a level I’m no longer able to control, and if we don’t clear the air between us, I could end up in prison.
My mind briefly flashes back to four years ago, the way Blake lost it on Stewart, nearly killing the guy and landing his ass behind bars. Back then I thought Blake was a psycho, totally out of control. Now I can relate.
And that thought alone is scary as shit.
I pull out my contacts and strip out of my clothes. The hot shower spray is punishing against my skin, but I welcome the burn.
I rehearse the speech I’m going to have to give when I exit this room, knowing that the next hour could change the last four years of friendship we’ve built. It’s terrifying and liberating, and by the time I’m out and dried off, I’m eager to get it over with.
With a towel around my waist, I push out and into the studio apartment. Axelle’s sitting cross-legged on my bed with a glass of water between her hands. She’s wearing my black UFL tee and a pair of red boxers, her long slender legs looking as smooth as silk against my comforter.
“I’m finished if you need to get ready for bed.”
Her eyes widen and slide down my chest to my abdomen and then lower to—dammit, fuck! My dick is half hard and more than obvious behind the thin white towel. I whirl around and give her my back.
“Thanks, I’ll, uh…” I look over my shoulder to see her flustered and fumbling with her water glass as it splashes over the lip and onto her legs. “Oh, shit!” She scrambles off the bed. “Do that.”
She scurries to the door, tripping once on her way, but I pretend not to notice and dig out some pajama pants to wear to bed. I hear the toilet flushing then the faucet running, and the door opens again just as I’m settling into a chair at my small kitchen table.
She looks between me and the bed. “Are you not tired?”
“We need to talk, and—no shit—I won’t be able to concentrate if we have this conversation on the bed.”
Her eyes widen, and she crosses to me with uneasy steps.
I nod to the seat in front of me. “Sit.”
She lowers herself and blinks up at me with makeup free eyes, and suddenly she’s sixteen again. That’s the face I fell in love with, the face I’m still in love with.
“Killian, listen, if this is about tonight—”
“Shh, please.” I close my eyes and pull together all my strength. “It’s not about tonight.”
She tilts her head. “Okay?”
“Axelle, I haven’t exactly been honest with you.”
Her eyebrows pinch and she leans away. “About what?”
I open my mouth then shut it then open it again and—
“Killian, whatever it is, just say it. You can tell me anything, you know that—”
“I’m in love with you.”
She blinks.
“I know it probably seems like this is coming out of nowhere, but for me it’s not. I’ve been in love with you since we were sixteen years old, and I keep thinking that what I feel for you will mellow and we can stay friends, but it hasn’t. It…fuck, Ax, it’s only gotten stronger.”
Her eyes shine, but I can’t tell if the tears are the happy or sad kind.
“Look. I don’t expect anything from you. I just can’t go on living like this. I can’t go another day watching you give these guys your time and your body, when they don’t even deserve to breathe the same air as you. And I’m not saying I do, but if you gave me a chance, God, Axelle, if it were even in the realm of possibility that you’d give me a chance, I’d show you every second of every day exactly how you deserve to be treated.”
I sit back, rest my hands on my thighs, and wait as I watch her phase through a slew of emotions. My heart sinks with every second that passes and she says nothing until finally I sigh in defeat. I just poured my heart out, laid it at her feet, and she has nothing to say. Great.
“You’ve had a long night; you should get some sleep.” I attempt to push back the beginning stages of a headache.
The sound of her chair legs scraping the tile brings my eyes to hers. She closes the space between us, and when her knees hit mine, she pauses. Our eyes lock and my heart pounds in my chest.
And then she blows me away by lifting one leg over my thigh and climbing on to straddle my lap.
I hiss when the warmth between her legs covers my dick. My hands instinctively grip her waist and hold her there, absorbing her heat.
Is this really happening?