Page 20 of Fall Into Me

“Next rule,”—I was trying very hard not to yell—“you’re not allowed to speak. At all.” I watched him, my chest rising and falling like I was on the verge of running away or maybe charging right at him. I hadn’t decided yet.

The decision was made for me when Fane raised his hand in the air, and the smile on his face finally cracked through the glare he’d had fitted like a tailored suit.

It was my turn to take a big breath, releasing it slowly through my nose. “Yes?”

“What if I have a question?”

“Then…then you can raise your hand.”

“Like I’m at school?”

“Well, youareacting like an overgrown toddler, so if the shoe fits.”

“Okay.” He dropped his hand but didn’t drop the smile, and the fact he didn’t bite at my dig made me infinitely madder at him.

“Can I call you Rosie?”

“No.”

“Baby?”

“No,”I gritted out through clenched teeth.

“Late for dinner?” His smile spoke volumes on how funny he thought he was.

Charge at him. I definitely wanted to charge at him.

The tension between us was so thick it felt seconds away from becoming a tangible thing. Heat flushed my cheeks, like I’d been sitting under the summer sun for way too long.

He hadn’t lifted his gaze from me once. The weight of it made me shift. Made me aware of the sound of my own breath moving in and out of my mouth, of the dampness growing between my legs for reasons so far beyond my own comprehension. The heaviness that had settled just below my belly button.

I needed water. I needed something to hold onto.

Get a fucking grip, Calista. You’re a grown-ass woman who has control over her body.

The moment his eyes left mine, I was released from whatever hold he had on me. It gave me enough mental clarity to notice how rigid he’d become. How tightly coiled he’d become.

So much of Fane was corded muscle. He’d always been solid, with rigid lines and valleys that created the map of his body.

Look, I don’t have anything positive to say about the way all that driving, flaming heat consuming me settled into a heavy, thrumming pulse that radiated through my entire body. It spread through me until I was painfully aware of every sensation—the drag of my clothes against my skin, the way it was almost too much to bear. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to bury myself in every sweater I owned or rip off every piece of clothing I had on.

It had been so long since I’d remotely felt an inkling of need for any other human that it slammed into me the way you might walk directly into a sliding glass door.

My day had been bizarre, and I gave myself full permission to blame it on that.

No, not just bizarre, but soul drainingly exhausting.

I could feel myself starting to droop under the weight of the last two years, never more crushing than here, in the small, useless room that held a single ottoman I never used and the one person I hated most in the world.

“I don’t have a guest room.” I kept as much space between us as I could, walking around Fane and into the living room. “You can take the couch.”

“No.” His voice came from so close behind me that I swear I felt his breath on the back of my neck. The hairs on every part of my body stood up.

“What do you mean, ‘no’?” I asked the question while still looking away from him, wondering if this might be the moment that the slipping grip I had on my sanity finally gave way.

“I’m not sleeping on the couch,” he said again, enunciating each and every word as clear as day.

I gave myself three seconds to take a deep breath before I turned to face him. He was so close to me that I could feel the heat radiating off his body.

---