Page 132 of None Of Your Business

Rowan’s inner walls pulse violently around my shaft, clamping down so tight it takes the air out of my lungs. She throws her head back with a sharp, shattering scream as her orgasm rips through her.

I drive deep, my voice breaking into a low roar as I follow her over the edge.

∞∞∞

I wake to the frantic tap-tap-tap of glass and the rapid buzzing of Rowan’s phone.

I open my eyes and see her pacing the length of her bedroom floor.

I sit up, my chest tightening. “Ro?”

She spins on her heel, and she looks fucking terrified. Her skin is drained of color, her green eyes wide and wild.

“What’s wrong?”

She holds up her phone. “It’s the group chat. It’s Madison. She’s losing her mind.”

I swing my legs out of bed and lift her straight into my lap.

She doesn’t resist, but her whole body is wired tight, vibrating with nervous energy.

“She was fine when we left her apartment,” I remind her.

“Madison isn’t fine. Madison is an overthinker. She’s spent the last week spiraling about everything. She’s been stewing on it.”

“And what’s the verdict?”

She lets out a breath that’s half laugh, half sob. “The verdict is that she’s demanding a mandatory family dinner today at my parents’ house. Everyone has to be there. Including you.”

“Okay.”

Rowan snaps her head around, staring at me like I just spoke in tongues. “Okay? Hudson, none of this is okay. She’s going to tell my parents.”

“Good.”

“Good? Are you insane?” Her voice climbs an octave. “She’s dragging you into it.”

“I’m a big boy, Ro,” I tell her. “I can handle myself.”

I look at her face—really look at her—and the clinical part of my brain turns cold.

The shadows under her eyes are dark and purple. Her breathing is too shallow, her pulse humming too fast against her skin. She spent months pushing through a creative block, poured her soul into twenty canvases, ran herself into the ground for the show, and then spent the last week handling her siblings’ shock.

She never fully came down after the show. The adrenaline crash is coming, and I know it. Her body can’t sustain this level of friction much longer without something giving way.

I’m fucking terrified for her.

I hide it behind the same calm mask I wear every day, wrapping my arms tighter around her waist.

“Can you relax?” I ask, pressing a kiss to the side of her neck. “We’ll get through it.”

Rowan groans, throwing her head back onto my shoulder.

Forty

Rowan

The air in my parents’ dining room is so thick I can barely draw it into my lungs.