Page 73 of On a Fault Line

I switch over to the cotton candy—fully committing to stress eating—ripping off a piece from the pink sugar cloud and popping it into my mouth. Closing my eyes, I savor the taste. “There’s something magical about this fairy goodness. I swear they put drugs in this stuff to make it so addicting.”

When I decide to come back down from my high, Collins is still staring at me. I keep catching him watching me, and every look coats my insides with warmth.

If he continues to analyze everything I’m doing, I might scream. He looks hangry but refuses to dig in to the pit of carbs with me, at least not to the extent I’m blowing through a day’s worth of calories. I wipe at my face with a napkin, worried I have something smeared on my cheeks.

“Here, let me,” Collins says, grabbing my napkin and moving it along the side of my mouth. “There.”

We have to maintain a platonic relationship when out in public, but he’s the one who keeps initiating all of the seemingly innocent touches.

I look down at my new skates, rocking the blades along the rubber floor. “Thanks.”

His eyes stare at my lips. “Anytime.”

“I’m not just referring to you saving me from the food stuck on my face but for today. I have so much fun with you.”

Collins’s smile is genuine. “I haven’t ice skated in a long time. I’m surprised I remembered how to do it.”

I turn my body on the bench, propping up a knee. “Is there anything you’re not good at?”

He thinks about it for a couple of seconds. “Hmm, no.”

I smack his arm, causing him to fake wince. “You can be so cocky, Mr. Stone.”

“And you can be so sassy, Miss Hoffman.”

“You like it.”

His smile is wicked. “I more than like it.”

We pack up our belongings and put on our normal shoes, exiting the facility into the parking lot.

The drive back to Sky View is pleasant. I watch the sun set and think about how I got to this stage in my life.

A couple of months ago, I’d have laughed in anyone’s face if they told me that I’d be signing a sex contract with this ultra private man.

But here I am, riding shotgun, being his passenger princess.

“I know you aren’t going to like this…”

“Oh boy,” Collins says, shooting his gaze my way. “Go on…”

“I’m going to need to at least show my face in my own apartment for a couple of hours.”

“Why?”

“Because I haven’t checked in with Luke in weeks. He has my cell number and we text on occasion, but I’m not really being a good roommate by deserting him.”

“Fine. But I’ll walk you to your door. And you’re coming back to my bed tonight.”

I nod and allow Collins to help me out of my side of the vehicle, which he always seems to enjoy. He grabs our skates from the trunk and carries them for us.

We walk to the elevator and exit onto my floor.

Digging through my handbag, I search for my key. After several seconds, I feel his warm breath on my cheek, as he leans over to put his key into the lock.

“Really?” I ask, turning and propping my hands on my hips.

“Yes, really.”

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