Page 68 of The Keeper

I sifted my fingers through it again, reveling in the feeling. I’d done this so much over the last few days it should feel normal. Yet, sitting here in the dark and sneaking a touch while he slept felt forbidden. Like I was tempting fate.

So I kept tempting. Tracing the scar above his eye. Caressing down his cheek, over his stubbled jaw to his mouth. I moved down his neck to his collarbone, tracing the words Trust Your Struggle inked in black script. I should ask him what this meant.

I stopped when his breath hitched.

A hand encased my fingers, squeezing them. Holding my hand tight to his chest, he inhaled slow. Without saying a word, he pulled me down beside him, resting his head in the crook of my neck. He kept my hand firmly pressed to his chest, his eyes remaining closed.

“Victoria. You belong right here. With me. Always.” His voice was deep and raspy, thick with sleep. The sound vibrated straight to my core. His warm breath tickled my neck on an exhale.

A powerful compulsion to imagine a future with him tempted and taunted me.

No.

I can’t.

This has to end when I get on the plane Wednesday.

It has to.

“This looks ridiculous on me.” I turned every which way possible to see myself at all angles in the bathroom mirror. “I’m putting my dress on instead.”

I brushed by Xavier, who stood shirtless in jeans with an amused grin on his face. “You’ll be in my car. Nobody can see you. Except me. And I think you look cute.”

I stopped, turning on my heel to face him. “First of all, bunnies and puppies are cute.” He snort-laughed. I continued, “Second, I’m literally swimming in this.” I held out my arms. My hands were nonexistent thanks to how long the sleeves on this hoodie were. “And don’t get me started on these pants.”

He prowled over to me with a smile, led me to his full-length mirror and placed me in front of it. “What’s with all the dramatics?” He stood behind me with his hands on my hips. “I like you in my clothes.”

I caught his eye in the mirror. They glowed with adoration and mischief. I sighed, soaking in my temporary outfit. A royal blue zip-up hoodie with the Royal City crest sewn on the upper-left chest along with stretchy warm-up pants. He’s so damn tall and muscular. I looked like a little kid in his clothes.

“I don’t mind wearing this. The problem,” I paused when he pressed soft kisses to my neck, “is really just these pants. They’re way too long.”

“I’m sure you’ll sort it out.” He grinned, swatted my backside, and walked away to finish getting dressed.

“Menace,” I called after him with a smile. I settled on cuffing the pant legs. The fact that every inch of material I had on my body smelled like him didn’t escape me. Honestly, it made me lightheaded in a way that was reserved for long-term boyfriend status.

Knock. It. OFF.

Xavier was scrolling through his phone when I walked into the living room.

“Anything good happening on your phone?”

He glanced up. “Not really. But I could take your picture and change all that.”

“Don’t even think about it,” I paused and emphasized, “mate” while grabbing my dress and heels.

“I’ll post it on Instagram,” he teased, watching me put my heels on. “You’ll go viral.”

“I will end you,” I threatened, half-serious. “Besides, I don’t need all the unnecessary attention as much as you do.”

“Gotta keep the fans happy, love,” he said, leading me to the door. “You should follow me. I’ll let you slide into my DMs.”

I laughed as he fake moaned about only having two million followers while I bragged about my paltry twelve hundred followers that loved to see what coffee mug I used each day.

“You really think I’m going to let you drive my car?” Xavier’s inquiry made me jump. I stood by the passenger door waiting for him to unlock it.

“No, I’m, oh.” The realization dawned on me. The passenger side for me was the driver’s side for him. “Right. Still in England.”

“Americans,” he muttered with mock distain, laughing at me as I shuffled to the other side of his car.

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