Page 90 of Butter My Biscuit

Because I’ll be on my knees, I grab a few towels and roll them up to protect me from the hard floor. Then, I turn on an audiobook, one with monsters who have eighteen dicks, and bend over the side of the porcelain with my scrub brush in hand.

Every part of me wants to escape the thoughts that are trying to pull me away from these man lizards. With every circular stroke, I put all of my weight into it, watching the grime disappear. It gives me something to focus on that has a finish line. It’s a much-needed distraction from what I’m running from.

Before the dirt dries, I bend further over and rinse away the dirty bubbles.

I let out a sigh, loving how satisfying it is to see bright white porcelain. When I tilt my head, I can feel someone in the room, and when I turn around, I nearly gasp.

Harrison stands in the doorway with that baseball hat I’ve loved since we were teenagers, and he’s watching me with a clenched jaw. His strong arms are crossed loosely over his chest as that fiery gaze slides over my ass, up my back, to my mouth, and then to my eyes.

I take an earbud out and look at him, drinking him in like warm whiskey on a cold winter night. “Hi.”

“Hi.” He glances at the supplies surrounding me. “You got a bucket and a mop for that …”

“Shut up. And don’t you dare say a thing about it,” I warn because he knows me and my stupid cycles.

He takes two steps forward, and I’m on my knees, looking up at him.

“You’re cleaning,” he whispers, lifting my chin with his fingertips.

“Yeah,” I say, very much aware that his cock is at eye level right now.

I swallow hard, licking my lips, as he wraps my ponytail around his fist, forcing me to look into his eyes. I stand, and he gently lets my hair go, but we’re dangerously close.

“Why didn’t you text me back?” His voice is low.

His breath is hot. My heart is beating.

We’re a mosaic of colors; Harrison is yellow, and I’m gray. Together, we’re sunshine and midnight. And just like the moon and sun, we’ll chase each other around the earth, only being in the sky together temporarily.

“You were with someone,” I whisper.

His brow pops up. “Jealous?”

“No,” I say breathlessly.

“Liar.” He shakes his head.

I take a step back because the urge to kiss him is too overpowering. But this is the price I’ll pay to keep him forever.

“Why are you here?” I finally ask.

“I came to make sure you weren’t having a meltdown.”

I laugh and shake my head. “Was I everything you expected?”

“Always are.”

My heart flutters. “Were you with her?”

He meets my eyes and nods. “Yes.”

A jab of jealousy steals my breath away, and I take a hard look at our relationship, noticing it’s in shambles.

This feeling is proof that I need to find a new distraction fast before I ruineverythingwe still have and am left with nothing but my memories.

18

HARRISON

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