Page 133 of Show Me

I stare at her. At the stubborn set of her chin. The woman who's been driving me insane for months. The woman I can't seem to stay away from. “I don't want another guy touching you.”

The words settle heavily between us. Dangerous. Honest. Terrible.

Ruby exhales. “That's not casual.”

“No.” The admission costs me. “But it's what I've got.”

“What does that mean?” Her brow furrows as she tries to make sense of my convoluted statements, and I don’t have an answer.

I shake my head. “I don't know.” For once, that's the truth. “I know I don't do relationships.”

Her expression hardens. “And?”

“And I know I'm done pretending I don't care who you're dancing with.”

The room goes still. Neither of us moving. Neither of us backing down.

“What’re you asking for?”

“No one else.” Her breath catches. Small. Almost silent. But there. I don’t stop. “No promises.” I force the words out. “No future planning.” A bitter laugh. “No labels.”

“But no one else?” Ruby stares at me, causing my skin to tighten. What if she doesn’t agree? “For either of us?”

“Of course.” The agreement comes out quick. Certain.

She nods once. Slowly. Carefully. “Okay.”

Relief floods through me so fast that I refuse to consider what that means. All I know is that it’s another line neither of us can uncross.

Chapter Sixty-Nine

Ruby

‘Okay.’ The word drops between us. It doesn’t fix anything. If anything, it makes everything worse. Because now there’s a shape to it. Rules. Boundaries. An arrangement neither of us is willing to name.

And I know exactly how this ends. Eventually Xavier will leave. And I’ll be the idiot standing in the wreckage wondering why I agreed to any of it.

No promises. No future. No labels. Just him. For now.

My stomach twists. Because that feels worse than before. The silence stretches. Neither of us moves. Neither of us looks away.

The space between us is too small. Too warm. Too dangerous. I should step back. Put distance between us. End this conversation before I do something stupid.

Instead, I stay exactly where I am. His gaze drops briefly. Not to my hands. Not to my mouth. Just enough to make my pulse stumble.

I hate that he can do this to me. I hate that I let him. Most of all, I hate that part of me is relieved. Relieved he doesn't want anyone else. Relieved he came after me and relieved that for one stupid second in that bar, he was as miserable as I was.

The realization should scare me. It does. Just not enough.

I let out a slow breath. “This is a terrible idea.”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

His eyes don't leave mine. “Still not leaving.”

My heart does that stupid stutter step in my chest as the room goes still again. Neither of us saying anything. Neither of us leaving. The tension stretches tighter. And tighter. Like something waiting to break.