Page 1 of On a Fault Line

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PENNY

My hand reaches over the silky sheets in search of Collins. They lack the warmth of where he once lay but still bear the indentation of where he was. My inner thighs clench at the reminder of where he has been—multiple times—and where I hope he stays.

I roll to my side, curling my legs and bringing my knees toward my chest. Collins may not think he’s romantic, but he’s nothing short of amazing in my eyes. My body aches with a delicious soreness from his worshipping. Maybe it’s a honeymoon phase or maybe this is just how he commits all-in to a task. Regardless, I’m expecting this arrangement that we are about to make to be beneficial to my goal list—at the very least.

I trust Collins.

I have confidence in him to fulfill my needs but do so without causing me harm.

Despite feeling like I coerced him to even consider this type of relationship, I hope that I too can please him and give him the satisfaction that he would otherwise get from some hookup at the club.

Clutching the sheet under my neck, I revel in the comfort of having no place I need to go and no schedule I am forced to follow, at least for today. Funny thing is—apparently neither does Collins.

If I’m being boring, then so is he.

I am his responsibility.

And keeping him sexually satisfied will soon be mine.

Of course, I also plan to be working more regularly at Plus None. Nothing has really picked up yet with the modeling shoots, so I’ve been immersing myself in the marketing side of the business and loving it so far.

While Angie and Claire swore that my brothers had nothing to do with my hiring, I still wonder if guilt on their part played an important role in the process.

I want to work.

I want to be less bored.

I want to contribute my own earned money to my bank account and not have it magically appear into it—most likely courtesy of Graham and Nic. If anyone lacks discretion when it comes to oversupplying bank accounts, it’s those two.

Money doesn’t grow from trees, but it does grow from a pair of overprotective brothers.

And Collins is made of the same overprotective material, so he’s not any better. He already threatened to add money into my account in the past if I insisted on paying.

That man…

Rolling over in bed, my stomach growls to remind me I haven’t eaten in a while.

I have a box of sugary cereal calling my name back at my place.

Will it still be my place for the duration of our arrangement, or will it just be Luke’s for that time?

Questions of how this all is going to work pop into my head. Yesterday it seemed like such an easy, no-brainer decision, when I was desperate to act on my sexual revolution that Collins repeatedly wanted to block.

Maybe Collins is having regrets?

I glance over at where he should be lying, thinking about the amount of awkwardness that would ensue if he were to back out now—especially after the level of intimacy we had last night.

I definitely know my heart and my self-esteem wouldn’t be able to handle the huge disappointment.

But I wonder… Could things ever go back to how they were before, and he just be my bodyguard?

Rolling off the mattress, I make my way over to the blackout curtains. With just a little push, the sun comes spilling into the room, casting a warm glow on everything it touches.

Collins’s space is immaculately clean. I expect nothing less from someone with obsessive-compulsive tendencies. I won’t be surprised if the contract doesn’t have a clause stating something along the lines of “don’t mess up my shit.”

Why be subtle when you can be direct—I guess? And if Collins is anything—he is direct.

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