He grabs my hips, touching me again, and I hate how much I like it. How much I crave it.

“And I think I like you, Ashlyn.”

My chest swells with emotion, nearly clogging my throat, but I swallow it. Because I hate how he can’t see what I see when I look at him. How he still paints himself as the villain when I’ve seen firsthand, he’s the opposite. How I might say I don’t want complicated, but part of me is terrified it’s because of the walls he’s keeping between us. The secret I know he’s keeping close to his chest and the realization he doesn’t owe me anything, especially not the opportunity to climb those walls or to let me in.

“When can I come over again?” he prods.

“To study?” I challenge.

“If that’s what it takes to be with you, sure,” he offers.

“So, you admit you’re all caught up on the material?”

He hooks his finger beneath my chin and tilts my head up until we’re eye-to-eye. “I’m admitting I like you and want to see you again. If it’s under the guise of a tutoring session, I won’t complain…as long as I get to see you.”

“Just see?” I cock my head to one side.

He leans forward and touches his lips to my exposed neck. It isn’t a kiss, though. Only a brush of his lips. A taste.

“Whatever you’ll let me do, Ash.”

“No strings attached?” I breathe out, trying to focus on the conversation at hand and not the way his breath feels against my flesh.

But it’s pretty damn impossible.

Besides, I’m not sure who I’m asking. Because I definitely feel the pull when I’m with him. The desire for those strings to be attached. It’s like we’re being sewn together with every moment we spend in the same room. But as soon as we start to get close, one of us pulls out the scissors and makes a cut in our progress.

It’s infuriating.

He hesitates, not kissing my neck but not pulling away either. Like he’s frozen. Like he’s considering my comment about no strings attached from every angle. Finally, he bites my neck softly, scraping his teeth against my sensitive skin as my breath catches in my lungs. I should push him away. I should put some distance between us. I should set some boundaries. I should be smart. I should do a lot of things.

What I shouldn’t do is lean into him, savoring the feel of his hardening length against my belly or the way his fingers flex against my hips.

“Like I said, Sunshine,” he growls against my throat. “Whatever you’ll let me do.” He kisses my neck again, then pulls away, albeit grudgingly. “I’ll tell the guys I’m coming over here to watch a movie with Mia or something. We won’t even have to use the excuse I’m a dumbass, and it’ll help sell my relationship with Mia to Shorty. Does tomorrow work?”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Well, for multiple reasons, actually.”

“Such as?”

“For starters, I’m afraid I might like you too much to keep this casual, and I’m not sure I have the strength to take on complicated right now. But also because it’s Mia and Kate’s night off. We were going to binge on ice cream and reality TV.”

“What? No pillow fight too?”

I laugh, grateful he brushed aside the whole I might like you too much word vomit I spewed and decided to cling to the whole girls’ night portion.

“Maybe,” I reply.

“Can I join?”

“For a girls’ night or a pillow fight?”

“Whatever you’ll let me do.”

Another laugh bubbles out of me, and I shake my head. “It’s girls’ night.”