LYING AWAKE THAT NIGHT, I can’t stop thinking about that hug. It was the second time I had her in my arms today. Just last night she was with that kid, but something has definitely changed since then. When I held her this morning, it was for comfort. But just now…that hug was loaded.

She was squeezing me around the neck, her breasts pressed up against my chest. I felt her hips on mine and her breath on my neck. Not to mention we hugged for longer than the moment called for. It started as a fun, celebratory hug and turned into an embrace we were both craving.

It didn’t satiate my hunger. It only fueled it.

Shortly after, we both climbed the stairs together and split into our separate rooms in the dark hallway. She stumbled as she walked to her room, knocking the doorway with her body before laughing her way to her bed, the door closing behind her.

It’s been over an hour, and I can’t sleep. Unlike last night when we left things tense and angry, I slept fine. It was like my conscience was happy with me for being angry at her, so it could rest. Tonight, with so much potential in the air, so many ideas running through my head and the reckless feeling that I could do all of the things I want to do, I can’t catch a moment of sleep.

Her door creaks.

Slow footsteps trail from her door to the bathroom, and I don’t move, waiting to hear the bathroom door close. It is just between our rooms, hers on one side the stairwell and mine on the other.

Those creaky wood floors may be a blessing or a curse.

I keep waiting for the sound of the door closing, but it never comes. She must be standing in the hallway, frozen. Or waiting.

Gently, I stand up from my bed, the floor groaning under my feet. It feels like a response, a call. I know she can hear it. I’m in nothing but my boxers, and it would not be a good idea for her to see me in those, so I pull on a pair of gray joggers quietly and step toward my door.

Her footsteps creak closer.

With my hand on the doorknob, I twist and pull it open. It’s the loudest thing I’ve ever heard.

The hallway is bathed in darkness with just the light from the full moon above shining through the skylight and illuminating her form near the staircase. She’s just three steps away from me as I peel the door open to look at her, in nothing but a tiny shirt and her underwear.

There is an invisible line between us, one that we are not supposed to cross. I don’t know if it’s fading or growing bolder, begging me to cross it all the same.

Cadence is staring back, but she doesn’t look as intoxicated as she was earlier. There is clarity in her eyes as she waits for me to do something.

Neither of us speak, but my heart is hammering so hard in my chest that I’m afraid she can hear it in this silence.

She licks her lips, snagging the bottom one between her teeth.

God help me.

“What are you doing up?” It’s a whisper so faint, only she could hear it.

“Can’t sleep.”

I want to believe it’s because she’s thinking about me.

“Me neither.” Because I’m thinking about you.

Her gaze roams my face, down my bare chest to my loose pants. It ignites a hunger, and I step toward her, closing the distance until we are standing with only inches between us.

Being closer to her, I notice the slight sway to her stance. The alcohol is still in her system, and maybe that’s what’s giving her the courage to be here right now. Considering that’s the only reason I made myself a glass in the first place, I know it’s exactly why I can stand this close to her.

I tell myself I’m not breaking any vows by being here, but that’s a lie. Every thought in my head is a sin.

Her fingers land softly on the skin at the center of my chest, and I stop breathing. The invisible line shines brighter than ever. With one single touch, she crosses it.

Suddenly, I can’t keep my hands off her, but I’m still holding onto my restraint. So I graze my fingertips along her arms from her shoulders to her elbows, and I watch as the goosebumps erupt in the moonlight.

Her fingers reach my belly button, and my stomach contracts as I fight the urge to start panting. I wonder if she can see my heart pounding as my lungs fight for air. Looking up at me, her touch changes course and glides back up, away from the waistband of my pants. She moves so slowly, I both love it and hate it. It’s a delicious torture.

With my fingers still on her arms, I move toward her back, feeling every ridge of her spine as I glide my way down between her shoulder blades, all the way to her lower back, where the ridges soften. She has on a tight tank top that lifts easily at bottom so I can feel the hollow of her back just before I reach the hem of her thin underwear.

I just want to touch her, to memorize the feel of her body, and there is so much still to explore, but I can’t go to bed yet until I know her skin against my lips.

With my fingers still at the base of her spine, I lean down until my mouth hovers just above her shoulder. Her hands wrap around my body now, and I know she wants more. I can feel her desire radiating off her skin, and I feel terrible that I won’t be able to give her what she wants. But I’m taking this anyway, this one kiss.

With my lips parted, I press my mouth against the crook of her neck. She lets out a sweet little gasp, and I pull her body closer. Maybe I want her to feel what she’s doing to me or maybe I just want the friction against my aching hard-on, but either way, I know what I’m doing is fucked-up.

I said I wanted to feel her against my lips, but now I’m desperate for more, so I sneak my tongue past my lips and steal a taste of her skin, causing her to let out a heavy breath again.

The line has been crossed. Vows were broken, and there is no going back from this. Not fucking her at this point will be near impossible, but it’s not too late for me. I have to know when to step away, so I release her neck from my mouth and peel my hands from her back. The absence of her body against mine is painful as I put space between us.

She reaches for me and staggers where she stands.

“Go to sleep, Cadence.”

Her face morphs into a pained expression, and I feel fucking awful for it, but I’m glad I feel awful. I deserve to feel like shit because I took something for myself and left her feeling like nothing more than a temptation.

And she is so much more than that.

As I turn and walk back to my room, I listen for the sound of her footsteps to her own room. Yes, I want to own her body like I’ve never wanted to own anyone’s before, but I want to own her heart too. And for a man like me, that one is far more dangerous because if I fall in love with this girl, I know there will be no turning back and my life will never be the same.

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