Page 32 of Make Me Yours

“Never mind,” I mutter. “I’ll, uh… just email my questions.”

With that, I spin and nearly trip over his gym bag before bolting for the door.

“Lilah,” he calls after me.

I wave a frantic hand without looking back. “No worries! We can talk about it tomorrow!”

I barely make it to the living room before scooping up Waffles and hauling ass into my room. Once there, I deposit the kitten on my bed.

She doesn’t look pleased by the disruption.

But it’s hard to focus on that when my entire body feels overheated.

I’m not just burning up. I’m being burned alive from the inside out.

Holy hell, what was that?

Why did he look at me like that?

Then again, why didIlook athimlike that?

With a groan, I realize I’m the one who now needs a shower.

Preferably a cold one.

10

STEELE

Iroll over for what feels like the hundredth time, the glow of the digital clock taunting me from the nightstand. It’s late, and I should be out cold. Practice was brutal. Instead, my body refuses to cooperate and my mind won’t shut off.

All I can think about is that Lilah is sleeping just down the hall.

Her reaction to walking in on me after my shower has been on a nonstop loop in my head. The way her gaze slid over me, slow and lingering, felt more like a physical caress, and it’s got me in a chokehold.

It’s exactly how I always imagined her looking at me.

Like I was more than just Steele, her best friend.

And now she’s in my space and under my roof, but the place I want her most is in my bed.

Not for a night.

And certainly not as a distraction.

I want her here for good.

The realization slams into me, and I sit up, staring at the far wall, heart pounding under the weight of it.

For me, it’s always been her.

Always.

So why the fuck haven’t I manned up and done something about it?

We’ve been dancing around this for years, orbiting each other, coming close but never colliding.

Maybe it’s time.