“I don’t normally eat breakfast.”

  “Sit. Eat with me for a second.”

  “I need to get things going or I’ll be behind.”

  “I can help you when we’re done.”

  I don’t have a rebuttal for that, so I make my way around the counter and take the stool beside him. He scoops up some eggs and holds his fork out for me to take. I eat it and pass the fork back to him. He turns on his stool to move closer to me and his knee slides between my legs. It looks innocent enough, but it doesn’t feel that way. He pushes his plate between us and holds up his fork so I can grab another bite. I take some hash browns, and he watches me chew.

  “What?” I ask skeptically once I swallow.

  He shakes his head and takes the fork back for another bite.

  “Nothing.”

  I narrow my eyes in disbelief, but he doesn’t elaborate. I’m not all that hungry so I let him finish most of the plate while I surreptitiously watch his every move. The way his forearm gently flexes when he scoops his food. The way his jaw tightens and relaxes when he chews. The curl of his eyelashes. The warmth in his brown eyes.

  “You’re going to make me blush,” he says, cutting his gaze to me.

  I smile. “Sorry. Can’t help it.”

  He chuckles. “Now you know how I feel.”

  He pushes away his empty plate of food and picks up his coffee, taking a few big sips before setting it down and dropping his hands to either side of my knees.

  “I feel like a teenager sitting here with you.”

  I tip my head. “Yeah? Why?”

  “If you could hear the thoughts running through my mind…you wouldn’t be asking that.”

  I flush and look down.

  “Right, well…”

  “How long did you say until Cook will be in?”

  “I don’t know, maybe twenty minut—”

  I don’t finish the sentence before his lips are on mine.

  He tastes like coffee and I lap him up, more than happy to accept a kiss I’ve been longing for for the better part of two days.

  God, things are getting complicated between us.

  The physical part is easy. Wanting to kiss him, having my hands on him, letting him take what he wants from me—that’s a no-brainer. It’s the other parts that are starting to get messy. There are plenty of reasons why I shouldn’t be falling into him like this. I should be upset with him for snooping into my life, contacting Nan’s nursing home, paying her bills—but can I really be mad at him for that? Can I truly punish him for his curiosity and generosity? My emotions are all over the place, and it’s such a complicated thing for me to relinquish control because I’ve had to keep such a tight death grip on my life that at this point I’m terrified to let someone like Ben slip in even a little bit.

  He can feel that, I think, even in my kiss.

  He grows hungrier, needier as he wraps his hands up around my neck and tips me toward him. I slip off my stool, but he’s right there propping me up as we kiss. It’s not a kiss we should be sharing in the twilight hours of the morning. It’s a kiss that should be kept behind locked doors, a kiss between two lovers so hungry for each other clothes will shred, nails will sink deep, lips will bruise.

  One of his hands leaves my neck, and I flinch in surprise when I feel it on my thigh. There’s no hesitation as he slides it higher, up my skirt so smoothly and deftly I don’t even think to protest. I only kiss him more as he parts my thighs just enough that his hand can slip between them, up along my panties until a shudder racks through me.

  Ben groans like I’m hurting him, but my touch is featherlight compared to how he’s holding me.

  In a second, he has me up off the stool and propped lazily on the counter for him. At this height, we’re perfect. He has the advantage as he steps between my legs, kisses his way down my neck, slides my panties to the side and sinks a finger into me.

  My thighs shake as he moves it out and back in, deeper this time. He whispers Little Bird reverently against my neck, and I tilt my head up to the ceiling and pinch my eyes closed. It feels like I have to disappear from reality to let this continue or my brain might try to sabotage me. Even now, prudent thoughts are trying to ruin this: Cook could arrive early, someone on the highway could look in and see us, my heart could lose sight of who it belongs to even more.

  But he starts to swirl his thumb in circles while his finger stills inside me, and I’m already falling…sparks in my toes…sparks in my spine…I shudder and cry out and he doesn’t stop, not when I dig my nails into his shoulders, not when his name escapes between my lips.

  I’m barely finding my breath again when it feels like a match has been lit inside me. Rather than feeling sated, I feel ravenous, wanting to chase another high, a better high, a high with him sunk into me to the hilt.

  I’m telling him this, begging him for more, but he’s aware of the world around us in ways I’m not because my first thought when he slides me off the counter and drops me back onto the stool is the sharp sting of rejection, but that’s gone in a flash when the door to the kitchen swings open and Cook steps out to wave hello.

  “You eaten?” he asks Ben.

  “Birdie made me something,” Ben says, and I swear his voice has a husky edge to it.

  “Better not have messed up my kitchen,” Cook says with a good-natured shake of his head before disappearing back behind the door. Thankfully, I think he’s none the wiser to what he almost walked in on.

  A laugh bubbles out of me, and I let my forehead sink down onto the edge of the counter.

  Ben leans over and kisses my hair.

  “I have to get to practice anyway. I lost track of time. Sorry I can’t stay and help you open like I said I would.”

  I don’t miss the despair in his tone.

  “Are you kidding me?” I say, tilting my head to get a good look at him. “Do you think I care about that? That’s not what I’m upset about.”

  Even sideways, he’s gorgeous.

  He reaches out to run the back of his pointer finger up the back of my arm. “I’ll come to your trailer later. Wait up for me.”

  “Maybe,” I say cheekily.

  He leans down to give me a love bite on my shoulder before sliding off the stool and dropping cash on the counter.

  I growl in protest.

  “Don’t fight me on it,” he says, nodding toward the money. “Give it all to Cook if you want, but I’m not eating for free.”

  “You’re insufferable.”

  “Yeah, well…that makes two of us.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Ben

  There’s a persistent drum of the basketball as I dribble downcourt, my sneakers screeching as I fake left around LaMarcus, spin right, and then take the open shot from the right wing. The basketball brushes the net, nearly lost, but Anthony tips it in then Coach Dalton blows his whistle. We walk to the sidelines, exhausted. Anthony bumps his fist against mine—a silent agreement that the two of us are as unstoppable as ever. When Coach’s back is to us, I shoot LaMarcus a wink just to needle him. He flips me the bird.

  It’s been a long day in the weight room and on the court. My muscles are already aching as I take a seat on the sidelines, but I have an endless fount of energy knowing that soon we’ll break for the day and I’ll drive out to see Raelynn. She’s been on my mind constantly. Short reprieves only come when I’m in the middle of play—too focused on winning and racking up points to worry about anything else.

  Now, I find it hard to focus on Coach as he delivers his daily debrief. He can tell, apparently, because when he asks me a question and I don’t have a good answer for him, the whole team laughs.

  He shakes his head and tells us to go, eat well, rest up. There are only a few more practices here before we leave for Tokyo.

  I stand to grab my stuff and head out before anyone else. I’m in a rush and I want to get to Raelynn as soon as possible. Her days are as long as mine. She’ll be tired, and I don’t want her to have to wait up for me. I wonder if she’s already eaten dinner. Even if she has, she could save whatever I bring her for later. I worry about her. At certain angles, she seems too thin to me. Too slight for the amount of work she has to do. I wish I could fix that, wave a wand and end her hardships.

  I race back to my cabin after practice. I shower quickly and dress quickly, reaching for some black sweats and a t-shirt. Then, as I grab my keys, my gaze catches on my laptop and I remember that I was supposed to call my agent back tonight, and on top of that, my manager has been hounding me to reply to some emails for brand partnerships. Apparently, I’ve been slacking with communication lately.

  I groan in protest as I reroute, grab my laptop, and get to work, hoping to slog through everything in under an hour. It ends up taking me almost three. My agent keeps me on the phone forever, and it’s good and dark by the time I have a chance to escape.

  I’m starving, so I swing by and grab some dinner to-go from the main house, making sure to grab extra for Raelynn. The kitchen’s closed and I’m not surprised. Everyone else would have already eaten by now. I eat on the way to Raelynn’s, racing down the dark highway at breakneck speeds. It’s stupid, but I can’t lay off the gas. I’m chasing a high. I expect to see flashing blue and red lights cut into my rearview at any moment, but even that thought doesn’t slow me down.

  Off the highway, onto a gravel road, I park beside Raelynn’s old car. I’m outside, carrying to-go food and knocking on her door before I realize I accidentally left my engine running. I double back, turn the car off, grab my keys, and knock again. Still, no answer.

  “Raelynn?” I ask to the chirping cicadas and frogs.

  I try the handle on the trailer door, and it gives. I tug it open and step inside to find it dead quiet. There’s a dull light over the sink, just enough that when I glance down the narrow hall, past the small galley kitchen and the bathroom, I spot Raelynn asleep on her bed.

  Without a second thought, I slip off my shoes, walk quietly to her refrigerator, and pull it open so I can put the extra food I brought on an empty shelf. On the other side of the kitchen, I dip into the bathroom, wash my hands, and use some of her toothpaste with my finger then top it off with mouthwash. I try to stay as quiet as possible as I finish up and step into her tiny bedroom at the end of the trailer.

  Raelynn is on her side in the middle of the bed, a tangle of blonde hair spread out over her pillow. Her blankets are bunched around her waist and her loose pajama top has ridden up to reveal the cinched part of her waist.

  She must be exhausted if all my clatter didn’t wake her up. I consider leaving her to rest, but I can’t do it. I’m too greedy, too tempted now that I’m here with her. We have so few days left that I can’t give up this opportunity. I slink around the side of her bed, and she finally stirs.

  “Ben?” she asks, her voice scratchy with sleep. “I left the door unlocked for you.”

  I smile. “I know. Can I stay?”

  She nods, but she still doesn’t open her eyes, as if she’s too tired to bother. She starts to scoot over to make room for me, and I sink down onto the stiff mattress and crawl under the blankets. Her bed is only a queen, which means it’s a tight fit once I lie down beside her.

  For a moment, I hold perfectly still. I’m so rigid, so aware of how much room I’m taking up, how uncomfortable I am. I want to adjust my head on the pillow, fit myself better against her, but I don’t want to keep moving around and wake her up even more. I don’t even realize I’m holding my breath until she turns and nestles into my side, tugging me closer with her arm around my stomach. I never sleep with a shirt on, and it’s already warm in here.

  “Hold on,” I say, lifting up enough to tug my shirt over my head and drop it on the floor.

  I lie back down and find Raelynn looking at me.

  “Sorry I was late.”

  She smiles. “It’s okay.”

  “Go back to sleep.”

  She doesn’t argue, her heavy lids closing quickly. I finally relax, scoot closer to her, and get comfortable. It won’t be the best night’s sleep of my life, but even if we were on a plush California king, I wouldn’t sleep well. I’m so aware of Raelynn: her shallow breathing, her small hand resting on my chest, her bare legs brushing mine underneath the blankets. I want to do a million things to her, but I won’t be that selfish. I’ll let her sleep for now, and I’ll lie here with her and tell myself it’s enough. Truthfully though, holding her in my arms is the strangest sort of torture.

  I haven’t slept beside a woman since Shelby, and there’s still some part of me that feels like I’m doing something wrong. I shouldn’t be here. I’m cheating.

  But…I’m not.

  I have to remind myself of that.

  I glance up at the ceiling, trying to convince myself to close my eyes. Then I lose out and look back at Raelynn, studying her face, her cheeks, her lips. I lean in and kiss her before I stop myself. Then, I kiss her again. I shift and turn toward her.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper more than once. Sorry that I can’t let her sleep. Sorry that I can’t give her the rest she so desperately needs because I need her. I need her in a way I don’t think she understands, and it’s fucking terrifying me.

  I kiss her again and she arches up against me, raking her hands down my back. I shift until I’m up on top of her, careful to hold my weight up so I don’t hurt her.

  She whispers my name in a low, husky voice, and it’s my undoing.

  I’m touching her like I’ve been craving to since we got interrupted at the diner this morning. My hands slide up underneath her pajama top, skimming over her bare breasts, and I groan with how sexy she feels pinned underneath me. I want her now and I’ll want her again later, I know it. I’m already imagining more. This time and another time and once more in the morning before I have to drag myself out of here for practice. I want it to last forever, but this first time can’t. I’m delirious with need and she knows it. Her hand skates around the top of my pants and then she dips it beneath my waistband, lower until she squeezes her palm around my length in a tight fist.

  Fuck.

  I brought two condoms, but they’re in my pocket and getting one out seems like too great of a feat. I’ll die if she takes her hand off me, especially as she starts to slowly pump up and down, teasing me, working me up. My stomach tenses as I try to quell the rush of desire bombarding me from all sides.

  I need her with such intensity it’s like this is my first fucking time. My eyes pinch closed as her hand squeezes tighter. I inhale a sharp breath and try to get a grip, but I’m losing the battle.

  I groan and reach for a condom, angry that it takes me a second to find the opening for my pocket. She laughs as I rip one out, tear the foil, and lean up off her just enough to put it on. Her hand leaves me and rips away every good and wonderful thing in this life. I’m quick, unrolling the condom with speed and pumping my fist up and down my length to ensure its placement.

  Raelynn watches me with rapt attention, her tongue absently licking her bottom lip. Does she realize? God, does she even get it?

  I lean down and capture her mouth in a soul-searing kiss as I part her legs and start to press into her. I didn’t work her up nearly enough, but she’s ready for me, as impatient with need as I am. Thank god. Because I can’t stop. I want to bury myself inside her until I pass out, until there’s nothing left of either of us.

  She kisses her way down my jaw and neck as I sink into her all the way and hold perfectly still, trying to get used to how fucking good it feels. There’s nothing quite like it. Nothing quite like her.

  “Let’s do this all night,” I tell her. “Let’s never stop.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Raelynn

  I’ve never felt anything like this tight pinch of pain in my stomach, the incessant ringing of warning bells inside my head. There’s no reprieve from the worry. I’m standing on shaky ground. I know at any moment, this man I’m touching might disappear into thin air. In fact, he will disappear in only a few short days.

  The sensation of missing someone while they lie beside you is unnerving and scary.

  After our night together, I should feel content and sated. Instead, I want. My fingertips skim down his chest as he sleeps. I don’t know when we finally closed our eyes—midnight, two, four? My alarm will blare soon, and I’ll don my work dress and slide my feet into my old sneakers and tug my hair into an ever-present ponytail and my life will continue churning forward. So I focus on my fingertips in the dark, tracing down the center of his chest, through dark hair and tan skin and rigid muscles. I flatten my palm and feel his heart, and I try to fight the sudden overwhelming urge to cry.

  I blink and refocus, my gaze following my hand as it slides over his hard stomach. There’s not a lick of fat on Ben’s body, no fluff. He’s like a machine in that way, built for basketball. I inch closer to him until my side brushes against his arm and my leg covers his beneath the blankets.

  It’s like I’m trying to crawl into him.

  I wish I could. Then I could stay forever.

  Forever.

  What a word. Would it give me peace if I knew I had that long with Ben? Would this tension inside me ease then?

  Throwing caution to the wind, I push up and crawl on top of him, my knees falling on either side of his hips, my chest pressed against him. I let my head fall into the crook of his neck on his pillow, and he turns and inhales. I know he’s awake now because his hands come up to grip my thighs, keeping me in place on top of him.

  I kiss him good morning on the side of his neck and he makes a low sound in the back of his throat to tell me he liked it, so I do it again.

  I want to seduce him in ways I’ve only imagined, me pinning him down, playing the aggressor. I feel sexy and bold as I start to rhythmically grind my hips down against him. He shifts me lower until I feel his hard length press between my legs, covered by his boxer briefs. Now I’m in control.