Page 69 of Boulder's Weight

Not fully Cady anymore, but not completely Kelsey either.

A woman in between identities, in between worlds.

When I return to the bedroom, Boulder is already under the covers, shirtless but still wearing sweatpants.

I slip in beside him, keeping a careful distance, not sure what the boundaries are anymore.

Boulder reaches out, gently pulling me against his chest.

"Just sleep," he murmurs against my hair. "I've got you."

I should resist.

Should keep the walls up that have protected me for so long.

But I'm so tired of being strong, of being alone.

So I let myself melt against him, his heartbeat steady under my ear.

As I drift toward sleep, I think about the cage I've been living in since I turned my father in—a cage of fear, of isolation, of constant vigilance.

I've exchanged that cage for another now, the protection of a motorcycle club with its own rules and dangers.

The difference is, for the first time, the bars feel like they might be protecting me instead of trapping me.

And unlike my father, Boulder gave me a choice.

CHAPTERTEN

Boulder

I wake up startled, disoriented for a few seconds by the weight pressed against my chest.

It takes a few seconds before my sleep-clouded brain registers it's Kelsey, her body curled against mine, her breathing deep and even.

The early morning light filters through the blinds of my clubhouse room, painting stripes across her.

Her hair is splayed across my pillow, tangled from sleep, and her face looks younger, more peaceful than I've ever seen it.

I allow myself a moment to look at her—something I've never done with the women who've passed through my bed.

They never stay the night, and I never want them to.

That's been my rule since day one.

Yet here I am, with Kelsey tucked against me like she belongs there.

The thought sends a jolt of panic through me.

Last night changed everything—claiming her in front of the club, bringing her into my space permanently, promising protection.

What the fuck was I thinking?

I’m not the kind of man who does this—I fuck them, and they leave.

Yet, here I am, deep in this shit with her.

I carefully disentangle myself from her, trying not to wake her as I slip out of bed.

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