Page 28 of Forbidden You

“Definebehave,” Kayla chimes in at the same time.

“Oh, boy. See?” Jason’s brows spring to his sandy hairline, as he stifles a laugh, jerking his brown leather overnight bag over his shoulder.

I flip my chin to the definition of trouble next to me, pinning her down with a stern expression.

“What?” She mouths, then shrugs, before sinking her teeth in her food again.

“Good luck with that, buddy.” Jason salutes me, then waves at Kayla. “Stay out of trouble, Kayla.”

“I can’t promise anything!”

“Yeah, bye.” I swish my friend away, my gaze fixed on the far more interesting person in the room, until the front door closes with a loud thud.

“Don’t tiptoe the line, Kayla,” I try to sound reprimanding.

It has zero effect, because her brow quirks up in a dare.

“You want me to cross it instead?”

“I want you to hold onto our deal. No crossing anything.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” She waves me away, like I just did to Jason.

She doesn’t give me another glance, her eyes plastered on the TV.

That little brat.

“Kayla, I mean it.”

“Ssssh, I’m watching this.”

If she was any other girl, I’d tell her to never shush me if she wants to stay on my good side, but I just look at her, amazed by her brazen attitude.

Feeling like a fucking pussy, might I add.

7

Islept like a baby. His guest room bed is comfortable, like a cushion of soft feathers, and the silky sheets made me feel like I was in heaven. After two weeks of barely getting any sleep, this was a welcoming change.

I liked staying with Jensen and Rae, but I also felt out of place, making it hard for me to really relax. The tension that was still sitting inside of me made me broody at night, resulting in a greater lack of sleep than I anticipated. But when my head hit the pillow last night, I fell asleep like a log, and I woke up feeling like a different person before my alarm went off.

I’m sitting on the kitchen island with a bowl of cereal in front of me. While one hand is holding the spoon, the other scrolls through the ’Gram on my phone.

I’m humming the latest Pink song, when footsteps come from Bodi’s hallway and I look up.

Holy shit.

My breath startles when my eyes collide with his tanned chest. Gray sweatpants sit low on his hips, showing the V. You know the V? The only V that will make you drop from your chair and dislocate your jaw when it falls to the floor.

His hands are rubbing a towel through his wet hair as he saunters into the living room while I shift on my stool to ignore the tension surging through my core.

Finally, his eyes land on mine like a laser and he comes to an abrupt halt, shock washing his face, right in time for me to close my mouth to prevent him from noticing the gawking.

“What are you doing?” he spits, as if I’m killing his cat or something.

“What?” I screech, glancing around the kitchen to find whatever he’s talking about.

“You can’t wear that.”

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