Beneath the Stars (Falling Stars 4)

I squeezed her hand as she pulled away, and she squeezed back before she turned and headed for the door, leaving the same way as her husband had done.

The second the door clicked shut, I huffed out in relief. In confusion.

I was still reeling.

Trying to process.

Wondering if I was being paranoid or if I wasn’t being cautious enough.

That was a fine line, wasn’t it?

Embracing life without being reckless?

Doing what was right without being foolish?

I pushed to standing, and I groaned.

Stiffness was already setting in. Oh man, was I going to be sore in the morning. I toed off my running shoes and socks, and then I peeled the tight tank over my head and started to go for the sports bra when I froze.

When I felt the shift in the air.

The worry.

Different than my brother’s, though.

This was raw.

Potent.

Lined with passion.

Maybe need.

I was barely breathing by the time I heard the taps at the door that separated the bathroom and his bedroom.

My heart accelerated into chaos.

I grabbed the shirt I’d just dropped to the floor and balled it against my chest.

Like I could shield myself from him all while wanting to beg him to come closer.

Talk about foolish.

“Come in,” I rasped, turning that way.

The hinges creaked and the door cracked open.

Intensity surged.

Coating my flesh.

A slick of heat and a tumble of that awareness.

Rhys poked his head through, blue, blue eyes devouring me from where he stood.

An ocean.

A torrent.

My sanity’s demise.

His powerful gaze swept over my body.

I knew he was just checking on me.

It didn’t matter.

That rush of heat amped to an inferno.

Burning me up.

“Rhys,” I managed.

The smirk that took to his sexy lips was soft, twitching around his beard. “Thought they were never gonna leave. Was going crazy out there.”

“I told you I was fine.”

“Yeah,” he said, shouldering the rest of the way through. “But that was with your brother squawkin’ around you like a mother hen.”

He hit me with a full-fledged grin.

Oh damn.

I gulped and took a step back.

If I remained standing too close, I was afraid my hands were going to get unruly. Straight ignore all social cues and reach for him.

Touch his chest as a reminder of how it’d felt to be tucked against it last night.

Trace the tattoos on his arms.

Discover each one.

Or if I let myself get really carried away, maybe I’d let my itching fingers take a ride up his thick throat and into his beard, all the way until I was caressing the angles and lines of that beautifully rugged face.

Chills raced. Lifting on my skin. I trembled.

“You cold?” he asked, tipping his head to the side. I didn’t know if he was being serious or messing with me.

“A little. I was just getting ready to get into the shower.” I still had my bloodied shirt clutched against my chest.

“Sorry to interrupt.” I was thinking he wasn’t sorry at all because he edged in another inch.

Rigid severity hit the air. His burly, lumbering body overflowed the room.

I sucked in a staggered breath. “It’s okay.”

“Is it?” he asked. “Is any of this okay?”

“I told you it was just a little stumble.”

He took two big steps closer. “Not what I’m talkin’ about, Maggie.”

Memories swam.

Being in his arms.

The way he’d had me against the wall in his room this morning. His nose brushing mine. Our need palpable.

Before he’d gotten scared and asked me to leave.

I’d felt it like a blow.

Experienced it as his truth.

“I want to know why you lied to your brother.”

My brow curled. Surprised. Shocked that he’d recognized it.

I just hoped my reaction came across as denial. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He chuckled a rough sound. Frustration and a plea. “You were scared out there.”

“Of course, I was scared. I almost got hit by a car. It freaked me out.”

His head shook, refusing the excuse. “You might be able to pull the wool over your brother’s eyes, but you and I know better than that, don’t we, darlin’?”

A shiver wracked through me. I was accustomed to sensing people. To being overwhelmed by their emotions. What I wasn’t used to? Them sensing me back.

Sharing a connection that made me feel so incredibly alive. One I knew would devastate me if I fell into the false safety of it.

I could feel it shimmering around him like a forcefield.

Heartbreak.

It didn’t matter. I pressed forward. Lifted my chin and turned the tables on him. “Why were you scared this morning?”

Disbelief filled his huff, and he angled his head, the longer pieces of his hair flopping to the side. “Goin’ there would be a mistake.”

“Maybe it feels like I’m already there, whether you want me to be or not.”

And maybe I wanted to make a thousand mistakes with him.

There I stood in the middle of the bathroom wearing nothing but a sports bra and shorts.

Skin torn up.

Body aching.

But this was an ache that started from the inside.