Her lips squish to the side and I change subjects before she overthinks. “I’ve heard Hewitt’s been chatting it up with you.”

Breanna pales out and that’s not the reaction I was expecting. I swallow the last bite of soup and set the bowl on the nightstand. “I know I told you to make him think you were on his side, but is he overstepping into your personal space?”

“He’s acting weird. Texting. Saying he’s sorry. Obviously not sorry enough to tell me he’s deleted the picture. He’s...anxious.”

Anxious is good in that he realizes he doesn’t possess all the power, but bad if he’s attaching himself to Breanna. He could flip out and I don’t want her anywhere near him in case he creates collateral damage.

“You should have told me.”

“Like how you told me how you got shot?” she snaps. “A bit hypocritical, don’t you think?”

I scratch my jaw. I’m the emotional one of the two of us, which means that outburst is a strong sign something’s brewing underneath. Could be Kyle. Could be me. Could be a combination. Most people would have already cracked under the pressure she’s battling. The urge is to press her for answers, but even I know when I’m on the verge of detonating a land mine. “Come here.”

She inclines her head in a cute pissed-off way and I mock like my arm is in pain. “Are you going to deny a man who almost died comfort?”

Breanna rolls her eyes, but she crawls up the bed. I stretch out and encourage her to settle into my left side. She gingerly places her hand on my stomach, careful to avoid the scratches and bruises. Her cool fingers burn against my bare skin. I should have put on a shirt for her modesty, but I’ve enjoyed how Breanna’s been appreciating my body.

Exhaustion consumes me the moment my head hits the pillow. I nuzzle my nose into Breanna’s hair and her sweet scent relaxes me.

“You terrified me.” Her lips move against the skin of my chest as she speaks, and if I wasn’t so damn tired, I’d seduce her until she was underneath me and then I’d kiss her until she was breathless.

“I’m good.” Now that she’s here.

“Is this what it’s going to be like with you? Will I constantly be scared of losing you?”

I turn her words over in my mind while tracing a path up and down her arm. Goose bumps form under my caress and I love how she reacts to my touch. “No more than I would be scared of you figuring out that my world is too much for you and leaving.”

“I’ve never done this before.” Her soft tone dances along my skin.

“What? Visit a guy with a bullet wound? I sure as hell hope this is a first.”

She huffs. “Not what I meant. I’ve never lain with a guy in a bed before.”

The innocence of her statement is like a hug and an ache at the same time. A reminder that she’s as fragile as those fireflies from all those years ago.

Since the day in the field, we’ve kissed and I’ve had blue balls from purposely keeping our private time tame. Doesn’t help that I fantasize about sliding my hand along her soft skin, lowering her bra straps off her arms and hearing her whisper my name when I cause her to experience the rush of being physical with me.

“Are you uncomfortable?” I ask.

Her head rocks with a no.

Because she’s aware of my dirty laundry... “How far have you been?”

I don’t remember her dating anyone, but I could be wrong. Staying current on town gossip has never been my priority.

“I’ve been kissed before.”

Maybe she did have a boyfriend. “Someone I know?” And damn me to hell for the jealousy leaking out of my voice.

She giggles. “Nosy much?”

Fucking jealous, and I rap the back of my head against the pillow at how much this girl is starting to own me. “Yeah, I am.”

The giggles fade. “It was freshman year and it was at Reagan’s birthday party. There was an empty two-liter and it was spun and I was either really lucky or unlucky.”

This gains my attention. “Who?”

She props her chin on my chest and looks up at me. “I’m not telling because it doesn’t matter, but I will tell you that he slobbered—like a dog. It was seriously disgusting.”

The laughter rumbling out of my chest surprises me and I love it when Breanna’s eyes sparkle. I brush my finger along her cheek. “The night I had sex, it wasn’t right. When I do it again...”

I can’t describe the confusion. Did I physically enjoy that night? Fuck yeah, but then I didn’t enjoy the heated shame. The feeling I had let myself down. The fact I did to two girls what Dad’s been doing for years. It was physical, no emotion. They stumbled out of bed, searching for their next thrill, and I was left wondering where the hell I fit into any of it. In the end, I hated that I had been used and that I had used them in return.

“You don’t have to worry about me pressuring you. You say stop, we stop.” That sums it up without my having to overexplain. “But I’ll never complain if you cop a feel above or below.”

I wink and Breanna laughs so loudly that she slaps a hand over her mouth.

Parts south on me support any action she’d take. As if on cue, Breanna glides a finger along my stomach, and it’s like she’s poured liquid electricity into my veins.

One breath in. Another out. A steady buildup of sexual tension. So thick that the air between us grows warmer. Her fingers wander lower, near the waistband of my jeans, and I bite back a groan. My hand eases to her hip and I begin this slow circle. The material of her skirt lifts with it and her breathing hitches. I wonder if she can feel my heart beating.