Page 15 of Boulder's Weight

Just the afterglow and Boulder's weight pressing me against the wall.

Eventually, he eases me down, both of us breathing hard.

There's an awkwardness that wasn't there when we were back in Montana, a tension in the air I can't quite place.

"You want me to call you a cab?" he asks, running a hand through his hair.

The question stings more than it should. "Eager to get rid of me?"

His eyes widen. "No, fuck, that's not?—"

"It's fine," I cut him off, reaching for my clothes. "I should go anyway."

Boulder catches my wrist, his touch surprisingly gentle. "Montana, I didn't mean it like that. I just thought... after last time..."

I look up at him, at the confusion in his eyes, and something in me softens. "Last time was different. I was different."

"Different how?"

I hesitate, weighing how much to reveal. "Just... in a different place. Mentally."

He nods slowly, releasing my wrist. "And now?"

That's the million-dollar question, isn't it?

What am I now?

A runner? A victim? A survivor?

All of the above?

"Now I'm here," I say simply. "In your room. In Mexico. So maybe let's just... see where this goes? For tonight, at least."

Boulder's face relaxes into that grin that does funny things to my insides. "I can work with that."

He leads me to the bed, and this time when he touches me, it's slower, more deliberate.

Like he's savoring every moment, every inch of skin.

I should be afraid of this—of the tenderness creeping in, of the way he whispers my name against my skin.

But tonight, I'm tired of being afraid.

Tomorrow, I'll go back to being careful, to watching over my shoulder, to keeping my walls up.

But tonight?

Tonight, I'm just Kelsey.

And Kelsey wants this—wants him—with a desperation that would terrify Cady.

As I drift off to sleep in Boulder's arms, one last thought crosses my mind: I am so fucked.

And not in just a good way.

CHAPTERTWO

Boulder

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