Page 191 of Breaking the Rules

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Posters of musicians line the walls. The desk in the corner is covered with lyrics and doodles. The closet is packed with clothes in every shade of the rainbow.

Same crimson comforter and plain white sheets.

I lay her on the wide bed.

She rolls onto her side. Reaches for a pillow.

Her guard is down.

She's inviting me into her heart. Her life. Her space.

My throat tightens. My heart thuds against my chest.

I want that.

I want to be in her life.

To deserve a place in her life.

But there has to be a line somewhere.

I need to draw it in extra thick sharpie. Black against stark white. Something obvious. That we'll both see.

I need her closer.

But I can't be hers.

I don't know how the fuck to reconcile the two.

Only that I'm lacking the self-control to keep my hands off her.

I stand. Wipe my palms on my jeans. Flick the light switch.

The silver glow of the moon flows through the window.

The intimacy of this is terrifying.

And exhilarating.

Fuck, I want to be here. I want to lie next to her, wrap my arms around her, hold her all night.

That's over the line.

But there must be something I can do.

Some way I can comfort her.

"Good night, Em." I reach for the door.

"Wait." She slides to the right. Pats the spot next to her. "There's room." She brushes her long hair behind her ear. "Kaylee sleeps here all the time."

I try to find that line.

To figure out what's best for her.

It's no good.

Clarity is a million miles away.

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