Page 107 of Fangirl

And when she walked out in that black one-piece… conservative, modest, like she was trying to hide from me… I damn near lost it.

She was self-conscious. I saw it—felt it in every glance before she darted away from me. But Jesus Christ… I’ve never been so hard in my life.

Every curve, every soft inch of that gorgeous body she tried to shrink down, feltminein every way that mattered. And she doesn’t even know.

I couldn’t stop looking. Couldn’t stop wanting.

But I kept my promise—gave her space… let her breathe. Pushing now would send her running, and I’d rather rip my own heart out than watch her walk away again.

Will, the romantic idiot, said I should “accidentally” make it a one-bed situation. Typical. But she's not just anyone.

I thought about it. God, did I think about it. But I’m not Will, and she’s not just anyone.

She’s it, the woman I want beside me for the rest of this ridiculously short life.

So, I did the right thing. I offered her the guest room a few doors down. She accepted with a soft smile and zero hesitation.

Still, when I kissed her goodnight, I made sure she knew,really knew, I was right there if she needed anything. Anything at all.

Please, Fangirl. Need something. Because God knows… I need you.

And now? Knowing she’s just down the hall, skin still warm from the sun, smelling like coconut and sunshine?

It’s fucking torture.

I shift restlessly, groaning into the dark. My cock’s been half-hard for hours, aching in that slow, constant way that’s impossible to ignore.

But I grit my teeth and try like hell to find some control.

Because if I walk down that hall right now… if I touch her the way I want to… there won’t be any turning back.

And then the door creaks open.

I freeze, my breath locked in my chest, and there she is.

Barefoot. Standing in the doorway. A thin tank top clinging to every curve, tiny sleep shorts riding up her soft, plush thighs, leaving miles of skin exposed. Christ, she was made to ruin me.

Fuck me.

“Can’t sleep?” My voice is barely more than a growl.

She shakes her head, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip. “No.”

That’s it. One word, but it’s enough.

I can see it. The way she’s breathing too fast, her chest rising and falling like she’s barely holding it together. The way her nipples pebble against the fabric. The way her thighs press tight like she’s fighting every instinct screaming at her to move.

And Christ… I want her. No, Ineedher.

Every muscle in my body is strung tight as I sit up slowly, my eyes never leaving hers.

“Come here.” I don’t move, giving her the choice. Let herchooseme.

She hesitates, just for a heartbeat, before taking one step. Then another.

Until she’s right there, standing between my open legs, looking down at me like she’s caught between running… or crawling right into my skin.

Her fingers tremble as she rests them on my shoulders, and for a moment, all I want is for time to stand still. To memorize the look in her eyes before she realizes I’m just a guy who’s never been this sure or this terrified.