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I want him to.

“Oh, little fairy,” Jared whispers, coming closer again to cup my face. He kisses me softly, sweetly, making my heart flutter. He kisses me like he feels the same way I do—that there’s something between us that goes so much deeper than just physical attraction. “I’m not done with you. I never will be.”

I sigh happily, his words washing over me. This time, when he steps away, I let him go.

“Breakfast tomorrow morning,” he says, our eyes locked. I’m still flopped over the couch, too tired to move. “Be ready at nine.”

I nod my agreement, buoyed with the knowledge I won’t have to wait to see him again.

I watch him as he opens the door and steps out. Door half closed, he pauses, turning his head to meet my eyes.

“Sleep well, little fairy,” he says, and then he’s gone.

3

JARED

Idreamt of Juliet all night.

Juliet dancing across the stage, Juliet lit by candlelight as she sat across from me at dinner, Juliet’s lips parting in ecstasy as she came so prettily for me. Needless to say, when I wake up, I’m hard and aching and desperate to see my little fairy again…and also plagued with a tinge of guilt.

Juliet is mine, I have no doubt about that. But she’s also Laura’s best friend and I’m well aware I haven’t just crossed a line, I’ve obliterated it. Worse, I want to do it again and again.

We’ll figure it out, I tell myself while I shower and dress for the day, watching the clock obsessively until it’s finally time to leave and pick up Juliet for the breakfast I promised her. I don’t care what it takes. I’m not letting this girl go.

I have to stop myself from breaking three traffic laws just to get from my hotel to her apartment faster, and when I get there, I take the steps in twos. I knock on her door, and not a second later, it’s opening, revealing golden hair, big hazel eyes, and a smile that outshines the fucking sun.

“Good morning, little fairy,” I say, taking in the tight high-waisted jeans and dark pink tank top she’s wearing that reveals a sliver of her soft stomach. So fucking stunning.

“Morning,” she greets a little breathlessly, grabbing a thin jacket off a hook, stepping out, and locking the door behind her. “I’m glad you came.”

“I told you I would.” I reach to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, needing to touch her. “I don’t break my promises, Juliet.”

She smiles up at me, blinking and eyes sparkling. “You seem the type not to make promises you can’t keep.”

I grin at that. “Then let me be clear.” I take her hand in mine, and we walk outside. “I want you for more than a night or a morning, Juliet. I don’t give a fuck about everything else. You’re mine.”

Her lips part on a sharp inhale, but she doesn’t pull away from me. No, she sways closer, head tipped back to hold my gaze. “I…I feel the same way,” she says softly, but her brow furrows a little. “But this…this is crazy, right?”

I laugh. “Does it matter if it is? It might be insane, Juliet, but it’s true. It’s real.”

She sighs and steps closer. I wrap my free hand around her waist, holding her to me. “No,” she agrees, “it doesn’t matter. I want this, want you. I don’t understand it, but I’ve never felt like this before. Like you, us…is just right. Even though it’s so…wrong.”

Her throat bobs as she swallows, stuttering out her explanation. Neither of us has specifically mentioned the glaring reason this is forbidden, but it’s obvious what we’re saying.

We know this should be wrong, but we want it anyway.

And…well, fuck, the fact we shouldn’t be doing this only makes the fire raging between us burn hotter.

Hating the nervousness I can see in her eyes, I pull away and squeeze her hand, small and warm and perfect in mine. “Come on, little fairy,” I say to her, watching her pupils expand at the promise in my tone. “The cafe’s this way.”

By the time we’re taking our seats and ordering coffee and pancakes, the worry in her gaze is gone, swallowed up by a desire that I’m sure shines back in my own gaze. Everything she does entrances me—the way her tongue darts out to lick latte froth off her lip, the way her foot rests against mine under the table, the way she looks up at me through her lashes, and the way she moans as she takes a big bite of berry pancakes.

“It’s Sunday, so I don’t have class,” Juliet says in response to my question about her plans for the rest of the day. “But I have some errands to run. Groceries, new tights, boring things.”

I think I can literally watch paint dry with this girl and find it the most fascinating thing in the world as long as she’s by my side. “I’ll come with you,” I tell her, finishing my coffee, “and make sure you don’t get bored.”

She blushes, and I grin, thinking of all the ways I could keep her entertained.

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