Page 81 of Brazen Mistakes

A knock on the door while I’m draining the tub has me wrapping myself in a towel. “Yup,” I call, a second before Jansen pops his head into the room.

“Damn. I was hoping I’d catch you naked,” he teases.

“There’s always later,” I say, as I clear the few steps between us and lean into him, his arms coming around me, holding me tight. And it’s exactly what I need.

“You feeling better?”

“Yeah, some.”

“Well, we duked it out, and Walker gets you tonight. But I need some Clara time, too.”

“I’m assuming there were no actual punches thrown?”

“I plead the Fifth.”

“Jansen Pierce.”

“Okay. Fine. Trips was out from the start, and RJ got an alert on his phone about something with his dad, so he had to go manage that up in his bat cave, and well, yeah. I called out ‘nose goes,’ but Walker apparently could tell I was about to, so he got his nose before I got mine, and here we are.”

My laugh is real and full. “I guess I should be flattered?”

“Definitely.”

I step back and he grabs my shirt, rolling it up, so he can put it over my head.

“I can get myself dressed.”

“But isn’t this way more fun?” he asks, his eyes brighter than I’m used to seeing.

With a teasing grumble, I let him help me into my pajamas, both of us knowing I’m probably not keeping them on long enough for them to get dirty.

Our fingers lock together as he drags me around a pile of boxes with Walker’s name on them and up the stairs, his thumb rubbing the back of my hand. The motion is unconscious for him, but so essentially Jansen that my breath catches. Watching the flex of his shoulders, the way his ponytail bobs as he bounds up the stairs, pausing halfway to check in with me, it’s so perfect it hurts.

He throws open the door to Walker’s room, pulling me to the love seat and dragging me into his lap. “I’ve got a delivery,” he says, his arms banding around my waist.

Walker looks up, shoving two things that flash gold and black under his desk lamp into a drawer by his easel. “So Isee,” he says, a grin cutting across his face that says he’s looking for trouble. And I’m always a fan of Walker’s type of late-night trouble. Although I wonder what’s changed his mind about letting things get physical.

“Are you going to kick me out?” Jansen asks, a pout pulled across his face.

“Actually, no,” Walker says, moving across the room and locking his door. He clicks through his phone until the thrash metal that had been humming along when we came in changes to a lo-fi mix, the sound drifting through the space from hidden speakers.

“No?” I ask, squirming on Jansen’s lap.

“I’ve been wanting to catch a particular moment for a while, but I can’t be in two places at once, so I’m hoping Jansen can help.”

“And what moment is that?” I ask, Jansen resting his chin on my shoulder, his fingers teasing my ribs.

Walker scoots his drafting chair to the side of his bed, motioning for Jansen and me to join him over there. Jansen scoops me up, plopping me onto the mattress, his eyes twinkling as he glances at Walker. “I’m assuming we’re going for that moment when she totally lets go and just takes, right?”

“Yup. Pure pleasure, pure release, pure ecstasy. I can’t draw it from memory. Believe me, I’ve tried, but it’s just not quite right. I’m going to need a live model.”

Now I’m sure I’m blushing. “Walker, I—”

He leans down and kisses me, hard, tongues and teeth, his fist digging into my damp hair. Pulling back, both of us panting, he presses his forehead to mine. “I know you need this. And I need this too. I can’t fix anything right now, notreally. But I was too hard on you. I know you love me. And I know you aren’t trying to use me. Let me make it up to you.”

I nod, words caught in my throat.

“And the drawing, it’s only for me. I won’t share it with anyone, not even Jansen, unless you say it’s okay.”

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