Page 102 of Rush

We’re still moving, hips rolling through the aftershocks, lips pressed to wet skin, breath ragged?—

“Oh myfuckingGod.”

We freeze.

I turn, heart climbing straight into my throat.

Riley.

Frozen in the doorway. Bowl of strawberries in one hand. Expression somewhere between horror and delight.

She blinks. Slowly.

I blink back at her, water dripping down my face, clinging on to Broderick.

“Well,” she says, clearing her throat. “Guess I’ll just leave these here, then.” She places the bowl on a nearby table then turns—so casually—and disappears.

Then I burst out laughing, forehead dropping to his shoulder.

“Brody,” I gasp between breaths, “we’re so fucking busted.”

“Worth it.”

I’m still breathless, collapsing against him, laughter bubbling in my throat even as my legs tremble and Broderick trails soft kisses along my shoulder.

Fuck.

The thought slices through the haze like a knife.

Another rule. Broken.

No bed sex. No sleepovers. No quiet emotional moments alone. And now?

Unhinged, reckless sex in a pool after midnight in a house full of family—where Luca and now Riley, for the love of God,Riley—just caught us mid-orgasm like it was a scene out of a porno.

I bite my lip hard, trying to smother the half-laugh, half-cry that escapes me.

“What’s so funny, sweetheart?” he asks, as he pushes off the edge floating deeper into the water.

“Cat’s out of the bag,” I sigh.

He pulls me into a kiss—slower this time, gentle. Like he’s trying to reassure me everything’s going to be okay.

I kiss him back, still buzzing from what we’ve just done, but Riley’s horrified face sears into my brain.

“She’s never letting me live that down,” I murmur, my forehead pressed to his.

“As if she wouldn’t high five you for it,” he says, grinning, trailing his fingers down my spine.

He’s not wrong—this washeridea.

We drift apart, both paddling lazily through the water. The pool glows beneath us, soft blue light casting ripples across the walls.

Broderick dives under, disappears for a second—then grabs my ankle beneath the surface, pulling me under.

I shriek, “Asshole!” as I come up spluttering.

He surfaces laughing, slick hair clinging to his forehead, water running down the sharp cut of his jaw.