Page 106 of Beautiful Thing

Her big, sad eyes grab hold of me. I press a gentle kiss to her lips. Then another one when she kisses me back. And before I know it, what starts off sweet and innocent grows hot and intense, and we’re making out in my bed.

But those boundaries of mine cross my mind again.

I pull back, pressing my forehead to Layla’s. “I have rules. You know that?”

We both know what my rules mean by now. I’ve been pretty vocal about it all. I don’t like fooling around unless there’s a commitment. It leads to messiness. Frustration. Pain.Yet still, Layla and I have repeatedly given in to the physical aspects of whatever is going on between us over the past week or so.

She just nods at me.

“You make me want to break them,” I murmur. It’s not a question.

She bites down on that rosy bottom lip I like so much. That lip I was never supposed to taste unless she agreed to make this the real deal.

“I respect that you have rules,” she whispers back. “I like it, actually.”

“Oh, yeah?” I breathe out, my voice rough.

Her head moves up and down. “Makes it easy to trust you.”

I stroke her cheek. “Good. That’s good.”

She’s silent for a heavy beat. “Maybe we don’t have to break them. Maybe we can just…bendthem? Just a little bit.”

“Hmm. Bend them, huh?” I scratch my chin.

“What if, while we’re fake-dating, we maybe just…put those rules on pause? Just while we’re pretending to be together. You know, since we have to be touchy feely in front of everyone anyway.”

I nod, finding it hard to disagree with her idea. She has some very valid points. And Layla’s ‘bendy’ idea allows me to continue putting my lips on her.

Seems like a win-win.

We’ve been dancing around the rules, contorting our reality into an unrecognizable lie, unwilling to admit what we’re doing. It’s about time we just give ourselves permission to do thingsourway.

“Okay. The rules are paused,” I agree. “Then, after this fake relationship thing is done, we go back to not fooling around anymore. Right?”

Layla nods, a smile stretching across her face.

My body is thrilled by this plan. Even though my head knows better.

This is a recipe for disaster.

But what the hell? I’m willing to go along with it anyway.

I move to adjust the pillow under my head and flinch at the pain in my wrist.

“What’s wrong?” Layla asks sitting up abruptly, eyes wide with alarm.

Sensing an opportunity, I let my skull collapse against the pillow. “Do me a favor?”

“Anything,” she says, eager to help.

I bite back a smirk, trying to look sad and fragile instead. “Take off your clothes.”

Layla tilts her head to the side, one eyebrow cocked. “Seriously?”

I nod weakly, totally playing up the injured and helpless thing. “Seeing your tits would make me feel so,somuch better right now, Layla.”

“Archer, you need your rest,” she says in faux annoyance, despite her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Painkillers and rest. That’s all you’re getting tonight.”

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