Page 182 of My Rules

We’re both struggling for air, and intimacy is swimming between us.

I get a lump in my throat as I cling to him like my life depends on it.

I don’t know what that was ... but I’m officially ruined.

Blake

I lie in the darkness and stare at the sleeping woman beside me.

Reeling from the events of tonight.

A vision runs through my mind of the two of us rolling around in the sheets.

The sound of her moans, the feeling in me ... I’ve never ... I swallow the lump in my throat as I try to process what the hell is going on here.

I knew we’d be good together mentally, but physically—I had no idea the level of connection we would reach. I mean, I’d heard people talk about it ... but I always thought it was impossible.

Implausible, even utterly ridiculous.

And yet I lie here completely confused, because for the first time in my life, I’m sure.

Not just sure, I’m sold. I’m positive. This is a done deal ... and as terrifying as this is, there’s not a single doubt in my mind.

Rebecca’s the one.

Chapter 19

“So ...” Antony raises his eyebrows. “How was it?”

“It was ...” I smile dreamily. There are no words that accurately describe it.

We’re at the mall. I need to pick up a few things, and then we’re grabbing a quick lunch before I go away. The boys want a debrief of last night.

“So . . . ,” Henley prompts me again.

“It was ...” I put my hands in my pockets. “Incredible. She is ...” I smile into the distance like a lovestruck schoolboy. “Seriously fucking wow.”

“Look at you being all pathetic-like.” Ant smiles as he slaps me on the back. “Good for you.”

Henley gives me a halfhearted smile. “That’s great, man.”

“What’s that look?” I ask as we get to the toiletries section.

“What look?” he asks.

“Yeah, I noticed that look too,” Antony chimes in. “What’s the problem?”

“I don’t have a problem,” Henley grumbles. “What are we looking for here?”

“I need a new toiletries bag.” My eyes roam over the section. “I don’t see a toiletries bag, but I do see something I need.” I pick up a basket and walk over and take a bottle of lubricant off the shelf and throw it in.

“What’s this for?” Antony digs it out of the basket and holds it in his hands as he looks it over.

“Overusage.” I hold the basket out for him. “Put it back.”

He inspects the bottle. “I never get why it’s called lubricant and not lubricunt.”

“That’s a very good point.” I smirk. “You should do a start-up.”

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