Page 245 of Rush

“Nunya,” I say.

“Nunya?”

“Yeah.” I grin. “Nunya business.”

Before I can blink, he snatches the journal from my hands.

“Brody!” I shriek, lunging for it, arms flailing against his chest.

“Let’s see here…”

“Give it back!”

He holds it high, out of reach, and tsks under his breath.

Eyes scanning the page, he starts to read aloud.

“‘Didn’t mean to stay the night, but your hands talk sweet. Said I’d keep it casual, now I barely sleep. You’re in my head, a melody I can’t shake. One more kiss and I’m yours to take.’”

My heart hammers. I can’t breathe right. Hearing it out loud makes it real.

He looks at me—soft, startled, as if seeing me for the first time.

“Is…is this about us?” His voice cracks, no trace of smugness now.

“Maybe.” My chest rises too fast, heat crawling up my neck.

He studies me. Then his hand slides from my thigh to the back of my neck, fingers splayed, warm and sure. His mouth finds mine in one slow, certain motion, claiming what he’s always wanted.

I melt into him.

Blood surges through every nerve. My pen hits the floor. My journal slips away. All that exists is his mouth, his breath, the pressure of his chest against mine, the rough drag of his fingers in my hair anchoring me in place.

It isn’t hungry. It isn’t gentle. It’s something in between—steady and consuming.

When he finally pulls back, my lips tingle and my breath hides somewhere between his ribs and mine.

He rests his forehead against me, grinning. “Damn. I’m gonna have to get my lawyer to draft some paperwork. You’re racking up fees for creative services.”

I snort. “Muses don’t get paid.”

“Okay, sweetheart,” he murmurs, tracing the line of my jaw with his knuckles. “I’m happy to be your moose. Every day of the week. Twice on Sundays.”

“Did you just saymoose?”

“Yup.” He leans back, shameless. “Big, dependable, majestic. Don’t mind being stared at.”

“You’re such an idiot.” I roll into his side, burying my face in his bare chest, still flushed and buzzing.

“Yeah, but I’myouridiot,” he says, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

Mine? I kind of like the sound of that.

Then my phone buzzes on the nightstand.

Ugh.Cockblock.

I frown, shifting from over to reach for it.Mark.