Page 95 of Twins for Three Bad Boys

I’m pretty sure it smells of him too, which only makes this worse.

I just need to get to the kitchen for some water and pretend like I’m not carrying a small, wild storm in my head. But then I see it. The living room light is on.

Wayne’s still awake.

I freeze. He’s sitting in his usual spot by the window, as if waiting for me to walk in like it’s no big deal that it’s the middle of the night. His dark hair is messier than usual, and I’m not sure if it’s from a restless night or something else.

“Hey,” he says casually, glancing up at me like we’re having a totally normal conversation.

I step into the room, trying to act casual. “Can’t sleep?”

“Hmm,” Wayne hums, giving me a look. “I sleep light.”

Well, now I’m second-guessing every decision I made in the last twenty-four hours. Did he stay up because of me? Is he just pretending not to notice that I'm, uh, clearly not just coming back from a casual date?

It’s probably fine, right?

I mean, he hasn’t said anything. But then why does it feel like there’s this whole unspoken thing hanging in the air between us? Because there is.

I try to smooth down my definitely messy hair.

The silence between us thickens, and I try to distract myself by staring at the floor, like the tension can’t be sliced with a knife. But Wayne isn’t going to let me off the hook so easily.

“June, you sure everything’s⁠—?”

Before he can finish asking, I shuffle my feet awkwardly. “Sure, everything’s fine.”

Convincing, right? Just perfect.

I take a step and my foot catches on the edge of the rug.

Before I know it, I’m stumbling forward, flailing, about to hit the floor.

But I don’t.

Because suddenly, Wayne’s right there, and his hand is already on my arm, steadying me, pulling me up.

His hand feels warm. I could melt into it if I let myself.

I blink up at him, realizing how close we are. Really close. My chest is almost pressed to his, and my breath catches.

“You good?” Wayne asks.

I know he’s just asking because he’s being polite, but it sounds like he’s trying to calm me down all over again.

I swallow hard, stepping back just a little, enough that I’m not pressed into him, but still aware of how much space we don’t have between us.

“Yeah, thanks,” I murmur, trying to regain some sense of normalcy. “I’m okay.”

I step away, but then my foot catches on the rug again. I really need to stop doing that.

Wayne doesn’t let me stumble. His hand shoots out again, catching me, but this time, it feel like... more. His fingers brush against my waist, pulling me back toward him with that same easy strength as before, and for a brief second, the air between us crackles like lightening.

I look up at him, right into those dark eyes, and heat cascades through me.

The flicker in his stare makes me wonder if we’re both thinking the same thing.

Then reality hits me and the moment breaks.