Page 39 of Breakaway Hearts

“Safe?”

“Emotionally. Mentally.” He pauses for a second, his gaze flicking over my body. It’s just a quick glance, almost like he couldn’t stop himself, but I swear I can feel it like a touch. “Physically.”

Holy shit.

I swallow, forcing my tongue to work as I say, “That makes sense. I don’t want to risk our friendship either. So what do you propose?”

“Well…” He draws the word out a little, clearly thinking as he speaks. “The most important thing is probably to create clear boundaries. Which means we should keep the arrangement restricted to the bedroom—broadly speaking, I mean.”

“Broadly?”

His gaze darkens, an expression I’ve never seen before passing over his face. “Well, who knows? You said you want me to teach you more about sex. Maybe I’ll want to give you a lesson in the kitchen or the shower or on the couch.” There’s a slight rasp to his voice, and he takes a deep breath, straightening up a bit. “But we’ll draw a line there. This thing will just be about sex. Nothing else will change. Does that sound good?”

“Yes,” I whisper, hoping he can’t hear the shakiness of my voice. A sudden image of sitting on the kitchen counter with Reese between my legs rushes through my mind, and even though it feels so wrong to be having that thought about my best friend, I can’t deny the way it makes my thighs clench.

“And either of us should be able to end the arrangement at any given time,” he adds. “Especially if we feel like it’s jeopardizing our friendship.”

“I agree.” I nod, bobbing my head quickly. “Is that it?”

“No. Do you remember the safe word you picked when we started this whole fake dating thing?”

“Umbrella. And yours was dachshund.” My brows pull together. “But why does that matter?”

“You can apply it the same here as with our dating situation.”

I blink. “Do we really need that?”

Something glints in his eyes, making the warm brown color look almost molten, and he shifts toward me. Our faces are close, and my lips tingle with the memory of our kiss and the knowledge that it could be happening again very soon. He grips my chin between his fingers and teases the edge of my lips with his thumb, making my heart race.

“Yes,” he murmurs. “We’ll need it.”

He lets go and sits back again, and I exhale the breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

“Okay,” I say, but it comes out as a squeak. My blood is rushing in my ears so loudly that I can barely hear myself think. “I’ll remember my safe word, and I’ll use it if I need to.”

“Good.”

He nods in satisfaction, never once looking away from me. His eyes roam over my face, and I can barely believe this is the same man I’ve joked and bantered with so much over the years. Right now, he looks more serious than I’ve ever seen him, but there’s something else in his expression too. Something that makes me feel exhilarated, terrified, and turned on all at once.

“You’re the one in control here,” he adds. “I want to make sure you know that. If I’m going to give you lessons, I’m going to push your boundaries a bit. I want to know what you like, so we’re going to experiment. But if you’re not enjoying it, say the safe word, and I’ll stop. At any time, for any reason. It’s all up to you.”

I nod. “Okay.”

I’m wound so tightly that it’s a miracle I can still make my lungs function. My gaze stays locked with Reese’s as he speaks again, his voice low.

“Do you own a vibrator?”

I choke on my next breath, coughing awkwardly as I try to recover some semblance of composure.

Uh, holy crap. That wasnotwhat I expected him to say.

“Yes,” I finally answer, and I’m not sure if my voice is raspy because I was coughing or because my best friend just asked me if I own a sex toy.

Part of me still wants to bail on this. To tell him to forget it, that it was a bad idea, then drink half a bottle of Blanton’s and blame it all on the whiskey tomorrow. I feel like I’m standing at the edge of a cliff, about to jump off—but with no idea whether I’ve got a parachute or a backpack full of rocks strapped to my back. I’ll either soar and have the most exhilarating experience of my life… or I’ll hit the ground below with a resounding, humiliating splat.

Reese clears his throat, and I wonder if he’s feeling anything even close to what I’m feeling right now.

The terror. The thrill of excitement. The spark of heat.

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