Page 64 of Love Me Dangerous

I hold my breath as I type.

Where do you want it?

Everywhere it hurts

My thoughts spin in a delicious spiral imagining all the ways I could kiss him, care for him.

That could be fun to explore sometime

The dots dance while I wait in agony.

Careful what you wish for

I press my face into the pillows and scream. Because hell yes do I want this.

When I glance back at my phone, Zach has sent a final message.

Goodnight

The lights from upstairs blink off, reminding me where I am and my purpose, which does not include sexting a boy and imagining how good his body would feel against mine.

I release a slow breath, but it doesn’t cool the ache thumping between my thighs.

I wake justas the dawn’s pale light has outlined the mountains on the horizon with a silver thread. I’m sure I slept, but I don’t feel very rested. Maybe I expected Arlo to wake up, confused. Or maybe it’s because I can’t get Zach out of my mind.

Once I’m dressed and I’ve made the bed and packed up my things, I tiptoe into the hallway. It’s completely silent. I can’t even hear the air in the vents.

In the kitchen, there’s a note from Mr. Lennox:

There’s coffee upstairs and breakfast if you’re hungry.

Teague

I could definitely use a cup of coffee before I go, so I leave my bag by the front door and head up the shiny wood staircase. At the top, hallways extend to the left and to the right, but there’s light coming from the open doorway just off the landing. When I peek in, my hunch from last night is confirmed. The open-concept room is lined with glass, and beyond the attached deck is the most incredible view of the Bitterroots.

“Hey, morning,” Mr. Lennox says, startling me.

He’s dressed only in a pair of turquoise board shorts with a towel around his neck. “Sleep okay?”

“Yeah,” I lie and flash him a smile.

The spacious kitchen’s central circular table has a tray with orange juice in a glass pitcher, a pink pastry box from the patisserie in the village full of goodies, and a silver carafe with a pitcher of cream on a bed of ice.

I was sort of hoping to spot an envelope with my name on it, so I could grab a quick cup of coffee and leave. Then I feel bad for thinking like that. Mr. Lennox isn’t giving me any reason to dash off, and why not enjoy the sunrise for a few quiet moments in his lovely home?

He pads over to the table, leaving wet footprints on the hardwood floor. “Coffee? I can make tea, too.”

Teague Lennox making me tea? Ava is going to go crazy when I tell her. “Coffee’s great.”

He turns over one of the teacups and fills it, then hands it to me on the saucer. I can’t help but add a dash of the cream. I might be tempted to drink it straight if Mr. Lennox wasn’t here.

“Help yourself to anything.” He tops up his coffee, then adds a bran muffin and a wedge of melon to a small plate and carries everything outside. He doesn’t ask me to stay, but it’s sort of implied.

I take a croissant and a cluster of green grapes with my coffee and join him. Because the deck faces northeast, the sun is bright and the air feels warm, though it carries that crispness and scent of fall that I love.

Colorful outdoor blankets are folded neatly across each of the chairs. From the corner of the deck hums the hot tub, its cover folded vertically next to it, revealing the deep blue water churning and frothing. “You’re welcome to take a dip before you head out,” Mr. Lennox says, tucking one of the blankets around him before settling in one of the chairs. “Water’s hot.”

“The pool last night was great.” I take the chair next to him that faces the glorious view. “Arlo is quite the little fish.”

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