Page 28 of I Wish You Were Mine

How ardent would this girl’s kiss be?

She lingers against me long enough to let me know she wants it. The kiss.

I hold her just long enough to let her know I want it too.

Back. Away.

My body screams, but I somehow manage to do exactly that, my arm falling away from her waist. Maren’s eyes flicker with the same disappointment that fills every inch of my being.

I turn and reach for the door. Yank it open. It hits the doorframe with a solidthwack. I curse.

“After you,” I bite out.

Maren scurries inside. The shirt she’s wearing is oversized. The teeny-tiny shorts she’s wearing underneath are not. I glimpse the bottom of a perfectly round ass cheek as she walks. Skin smooth.

God, I’d love to bite it.

She doesn’t look at me as she heads for the stairs. “Goodnight.”

“Night.”

I pretend to busy myself at the sink until I hear the door downstairs open. Close. Glancing out the window, I make sure Maren gets inside the crofter safely.

My hand shakes as I bring my mug to my lips. Fuck me, I’m not going to be able to sleep at all now. And I have so much going on tomorrow.

So much going on every day. Life of a working parent. Most days I handle it fine. But the marathon aspect of it feels crushing sometimes. Especially when I’m shouldering that burden alone.

I wipe down the counter by the coffee machine in an effort to calm down. That’s when I see Maren’s phone next to the machine.

My stomach dips. I glance up at the window again, but there’s no sign of her. She doesn’t know she forgot her phone. Probably—definitely—needs it to study.

Going to her apartment feels like tempting fate. But I have no choice.

Slamming the lukewarm dregs of my cappuccino, I grab the phone and head for the crofter. I’m light on my feet as I go. Katie really is a heavy sleeper, but doesn’t hurt to be extra cautious.

The stairwell leading up to Maren’s apartment is quiet. I knock on her door. “Maren? You forgot your phone.”

More silence.

I knock louder. “Maren, it’s Tuck.”

Still nothing. My chest tightens. She okay?

I press my ear to the door. Nothing.

So help me God, if something happened to this girl?—

Wrapping my hand around the doorknob, I curse when it gives. I told her to lock up.

“Maren,” I try one last time. “I’m coming in.”

I open the door a crack and stick my head inside. The lights are on. Her laptop is open on the kitchen table, but the screen is blank.

“Maren?”

I open the door a little more. That’s when I hear it: the slap of water against tile.

She’s in the shower.

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