Page 67 of The Rules

His words hung in the air, an offer that both comforted and unsettled her. She knew she should refuse, should insist on being alone, but the truth pressed tight against her , constricting her breath. She didn't want to be alone. Not tonight, not after the fear that had gripped her so viscerally.

Joshua softened the offer, but he didn't back down. "I can stay."

Katherine's fingers curled inward, her nails biting into her palms as she wrestled with the decision. She wanted to say no, to maintain the illusion of strength and independence that she had so carefully cultivated. But the events of the night had left her shaken.

She exhaled slowly, the sound barely audible in the stillness of the apartment.

"Okay."

Joshua relaxed, just a bit, his shoulders loosening as the air shifted around them. The tension dissipated, replaced by a quieter, softer energy that felt familiar.

In that moment, Kath allowed herself to lean into the comfort of Joshua's presence, letting the walls she had built around herself crack, just enough to let him in.

The kitchen was still bathed in soft, yellow light—the kind that made everything look safer than it felt. Katherine leaned back against the kitchen counter, her eyes following Joshua's movements as he navigated her space with an ease that both bemused and warmed her. There was no hesitation in his actions, no need to ask for permission or direction. He moved through her kitchen as if he had done it countless times before, a familiarity that should have felt intrusive but instead felt strangely comforting.

She arched a brow, her lips curving into a half-smile. "Making yourself at home?"

Joshua glanced over his shoulder, his own smile widening as he caught her gaze. "You look like you could use tea."

And he was right. Katherine could feel the tension lingering in her muscles, the residual adrenaline still coursing through her veins, leaving her feeling both wired and drained. The thought of a warm cup of tea, the ritual of steeping and sipping, held an undeniable appeal, a promise of comfort and familiarity that she craved in that moment.

As she watched Joshua move around her kitchen, a quiet thought settled at the edge of her awareness—more feeling than sentence. He belonged in spaces like this. The soft rattle of cups, the mutedclink of metal against porcelain. Everything about him fit here, in the low light and silence, like a familiar song she couldn’t quite hum, but somehow still knew.

His presence didn’t jar her. Didn’t demand anything.

It simply... was. A comfort she'd never asked for but hadn't pushed away either.

And then there was Ben.

He didn’t belong in kitchens or quiet. He belonged in moments that cracked— in tension, in heat, in everything that made her blood run faster just from the sound of his voice.

He didn’t soothe. He claimed. Not loudly, but with the kind of certainty that didn’t ask for permission.

She didn’t know what she feared more: the comfort that let her breathe, or the control that made her forget how.

But none of it mattered. Not really.

There was nothing to choose between.

Joshua glanced back at her, as if reading a silence she hadn’t spoken.

His voice was gentle, but didn’t waver. “You don’t have to pretend with me.”

She deflects. Teasing. Avoiding. “Oh? And what am I pretending?”

He answers without flinching. “That you’re fine.”

She hates how close he gets to the truth. The words hit like a physical blow, making her stomach twist. She forces a smirk, trying to maintain the facade that everything is under control. But Joshua sees through it, his gaze unwavering and knowing.

He steps closer—not enough to corner her, just enough to see what she’ll do. And she… doesn’t move. Doesn’t pull away.

Her body betrays her, freezing in place as if anchored by an invisible force. The air between them thickens with unspoken tension, the silence stretching taut like a wire about to snap.

Katherine felt the weight of Joshua's offer settle over her like a warm blanket, tempting her with the promise of comfort and escape. His words were gentle, an easy out from the turmoil that had consumed her evening. She could accept his offer, allowherself to be enveloped in the familiarity of their friendship, and pretend that the fear and uncertainty had never taken hold.

For a fleeting moment, the idea was alluring, a respite from the chaos that had threatened to overwhelm her. But as her gaze flickered to his mouth, something shifted within her. It was a subtle movement, barely perceptible, but Joshua caught it, his smile curving with a hopeful understanding that sent a ripple of awareness through her.

"You're impossible," Kath murmured, her voice soft as she pulled back, creating a sliver of distance between them.